<?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-7388661127643798955</id><updated>2011-08-03T04:34:29.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Morrer [de Rir] ...</title><subtitle type='html'>"Tomou Veneno, e Vai Morrer de Rir" C. Buarque, Dura Na Queda</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>163</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1114876619542111184</id><published>2010-11-05T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T18:28:44.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>será?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;sem querer eu continuo criando castelos de pedra firme. mas quando olho de perto já é tarde, eles - que na verdade não eram nada mais do que areia, se desmancham com o vento e com a brisa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;e tem manhãs que eu acho que preciso desistir, que já dei tudo que tinha que dar de mim e não me resta nada. nadinha. e alguma coisa acontece: eu ouço alguma música bacana, alguém conta uma piada que me faz rir, o sinal fica verde antes que eu pare o carro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;e eu continuo. e desisto de desistir. e resolvo tentar mais uma vezinha. só mais uma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 326px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536242402415345602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TNSvIfpr_8I/AAAAAAAAAog/MWY_z63BOvI/s400/blogg.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;será que é essa a tal &lt;strong&gt;esperança&lt;/strong&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-1114876619542111184?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1114876619542111184/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1114876619542111184&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1114876619542111184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1114876619542111184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/11/sera.html' title='será?'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TNSvIfpr_8I/AAAAAAAAAog/MWY_z63BOvI/s72-c/blogg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1548668532534992878</id><published>2010-09-21T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T19:49:10.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>só sofro...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TJlulc-RGSI/AAAAAAAAAn4/9IbBgV3TXbs/s1600/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TJlulc-RGSI/AAAAAAAAAn4/9IbBgV3TXbs/s400/1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519564408030828834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;porque quando sinto, sinto muito. e quando beijo, vou até o fim. e quando mergulho, só paro até chegar no fundo. e quando sofro...ah, quando sofro não sinto, não beijo e nem mergulho. só sofro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e durante o almoço, quando me perguntaram do que eu tinha medo, respondi de supetão: de sofrer. porque? porque sofrer é ruim, e tudo acaba em sofrimento... isso, tudo acaba em sofrimento. as coisas boas, as ruins, as nem tão legais assim acabam, e a gente sempre sofre no final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E por enquanto eu não quero sofrer. É porque sou fraca, e medrosa, e tenho transtorno obsessivo compulsivo. e quando sofro...ah, quando sofro não sinto, não beijo e nem mergulho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;só sofro...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-1548668532534992878?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1548668532534992878/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1548668532534992878&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1548668532534992878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1548668532534992878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/09/so-sofro.html' title='só sofro...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TJlulc-RGSI/AAAAAAAAAn4/9IbBgV3TXbs/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1995578702463828901</id><published>2010-09-01T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T20:44:21.387-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pra pensar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;O telefone toca e ela sente aquele arrepiozinho que dá bem na espinha. É ele. E ela atende, faz voz de quem estava ocupada/acordada/fazendo alguma coisa. E responde que não, estava mesmo de bobeira. E conversa um pouco. Amenidades/besteiras/nada importante. E ele pede para ela olhar a lua. E ela mente, diz que já viu, que está linda. Até porque mesmo se não estivesse, estaria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;E quando acaba ela não entende/quer entender/duvida. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;E quando realmente acabar ela tem uma certeza: que não importa o que ela disse/fez/pensou vai doer. e muito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-1995578702463828901?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1995578702463828901/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1995578702463828901&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1995578702463828901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1995578702463828901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/09/pra-pensar.html' title='Pra pensar'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3877882572545433881</id><published>2010-09-01T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T20:31:59.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensar em nada</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;Todo dia, tudo sempre igual. Uma consulta ali, um trabalho pela manhã, outro a tarde. E a noite eu fico a esmo, cansada de tudo isso. Tentando me encontrar onde não há nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;Na varanda eu sou mais eu, eu fico caladinha, vendo a lua, vendo a noite acabar e o dia chegar bem devagar. E eu penso que vai ser assim pra sempre - e é clichê. E é normal. Mas eu me acostumei, me acomodei com isso que eu chamo de vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;Hoje alguém falou que a gente não manda no coração - mas eu queria. E é tanto querer, tanta coisa, tanta dúvida e tão pouca certeza que eu nem sei mais. Aliás, acho que nunca soube. Eu queria escolher o caminho certo, com a paixão de quem ama a vida, de quem sabe o que quer dela. Mas eu queria. E é tanto querer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;E agora já é tarde, vou para a varanda. Fumar um ou dois cigarros e pensar em nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512153623693498818" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TH8ahB-iGcI/AAAAAAAAAmU/2FMvo9L4cDI/s320/evelyn-mchale.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The Most Beautiful Suicide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On May Day, just after leaving her fiancé, 23-year-old Evelyn McHale wrote a note. ‘He is much better off without me … I wouldn’t make a good wife for anybody,’ … Then she crossed it out. She went to the observation platform of the Empire State Building. Through the mist she gazed at the street, 86 floors below. Then she jumped. In her desperate determination she leaped clear of the setbacks and hit a United Nations limousine parked at the curb. Across the street photography student Robert Wiles heard an explosive crash. Just four minutes after Evelyn McHale’s death Wiles got this picture of death’s violence and its composure. The serenity of McHale’s body amidst the crumpled wreckage it caused is astounding. Years later, Andy Warhol appropriated Wiles’ photography for a print called Suicide (Fallen Body).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-3877882572545433881?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3877882572545433881/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3877882572545433881&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3877882572545433881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3877882572545433881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/09/pensar-em-nada.html' title='Pensar em nada'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TH8ahB-iGcI/AAAAAAAAAmU/2FMvo9L4cDI/s72-c/evelyn-mchale.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7319711809077785467</id><published>2010-07-30T19:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T20:01:49.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>noites</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TFOSArxL-pI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/YThXhh_krqI/s1600/youll.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499900110396193426" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TFOSArxL-pI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/YThXhh_krqI/s200/youll.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;o tempo passando, e cada dia vai embora sem que nada da minha "listinha" de coisas - pequenas, grandes, seja feita. enquanto a noite segue, eu continuo insone, tentando não pensar no mundo de coisas aí fora que eu quero fazer e não fiz. que eu quero fazer mas a preguiça parece ser maior. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sim, porque só pode ser ela: a maldita preguiça. que me impede de ir atrás dos meus sonhos, atrás do que eu quero ser, que me afasta de tudo que eu já deveria ter feito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;e eu adoraria dizer que é meu jeito, que esperando sempre se alcança... que tudo vai mudar um dia. mas quase 30 anos passaram e nada mudou. eu continuo aqui, parada, sem me mover. e quando me movo é como se fosse em retrocesso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e mais uma noite passa, e a segunda chega - e passa. e eu continuo passando as noites insones...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-7319711809077785467?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7319711809077785467/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7319711809077785467&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7319711809077785467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7319711809077785467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/07/noites.html' title='noites'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TFOSArxL-pI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/YThXhh_krqI/s72-c/youll.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-9211728465743032178</id><published>2010-07-21T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T22:44:52.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TEfapD3YC1I/AAAAAAAAAiI/uY-cW0tv4qo/s1600/marriage_4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 393px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496602269176040274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TEfapD3YC1I/AAAAAAAAAiI/uY-cW0tv4qo/s400/marriage_4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Look, I guarantee there'll be tough times. I guarantee that at some point, one or both of us is gonna want to get out of this thing. But I also guarantee that if I don't ask you to be mine, I'll regret it for the rest of my life, because I know, in my heart, you're the only one for me..."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Runaway Bride&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Marriage of Tristram and Isolde (Burne-Jones)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-9211728465743032178?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/9211728465743032178/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=9211728465743032178&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/9211728465743032178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/9211728465743032178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/07/forever.html' title='Forever'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TEfapD3YC1I/AAAAAAAAAiI/uY-cW0tv4qo/s72-c/marriage_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1683247204843825999</id><published>2010-07-21T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T22:40:58.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>no fundo, no fundo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mesmo que o tempo passe, e eu viva outros segundos e beije outras bocas... eu continuo pensando em você. nem sei se é bem você ou a lembrança de tudo que vivemos - e do que planejamos viver. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e sabe o que é mais interessante? é que eu não iria querer voltar aquela vida. mas ainda dói pensar nela. só um pouquinho. no fundo, sabe? só no fundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496599864836377826" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TEfYdHAITOI/AAAAAAAAAiA/Hvfto49-RJc/s320/1196770013_d89143ff7e.jpg" /&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;por fora eu continuo saindo, bebendo caipirinhas e conversando no computador. vendo seriados também. mas por dentro eu continuo a mesma de sempre. com desejos, e sonhos, e vontades, e pensamentos que escondo de todo mundo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;quando tudo que eu queria era sair correndo, entrar no carro e fugir de tudo, eu lembro que não posso. que foi-se o tempo em que fugir resolvia alguma coisa. resolvia mesmo? agora eu não vou saber. nunca vou saber.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;então eu fico aqui sendo outra por fora e eu por dentro... mas só no fundo. &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/7388661127643798955-1683247204843825999?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1683247204843825999/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1683247204843825999&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1683247204843825999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1683247204843825999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/07/no-fundo-no-fundo.html' title='no fundo, no fundo'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TEfYdHAITOI/AAAAAAAAAiA/Hvfto49-RJc/s72-c/1196770013_d89143ff7e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1859587521322162298</id><published>2010-07-17T20:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-17T20:52:53.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pensei</title><content type='html'>e quando a gente conversa e o tempo passa eu ficou louca. e tento pensar em outras coisas, em outras pessoas, e outros tempos. mas na vida tudo é isso, tudo é assim. e mesmo na cidade mais linda do mundo eu sinto que me falta alguma coisa, me falta um rumo, um norte, um destino...&lt;br /&gt;uma coisa importante e tola, que só faz sentido se for vivida e se for bem vivida. e quanto mais o tempo passa mais eu vejo que posso ser mais - bem mais, do que estou sendo agora.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-1859587521322162298?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1859587521322162298/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1859587521322162298&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1859587521322162298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1859587521322162298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/07/pensei.html' title='pensei'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-2831243044486787013</id><published>2010-07-02T21:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T22:29:29.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>para escutar e não ouvir</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;e eu fingi entender tudo que você dizia quando na verdade eu já havia me perdido. mas não foi por querer, é que toda vez que fecho os olhos eu penso em milhões de coisas, pequenas partículas que se amontoadas não constróem sequer um minuto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas mesmo assim eu tento escutar, e entender, e compreender e fazer sentido das palavras que saem da tua boca. mas não, não consigo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;mil vidas se passam bem na minha frente, um elefante azul, uma nuvem amarela, as contas que eu ainda não paguei, os filmes que precisam ser devolvidos, as roupas que comprei para usar um dia, as bonecas que sempre sonhei ter e que hoje já não fariam sentido na prateleira.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;e enquanto isso você continua despejando verdades, sorrateiro essa coisa de "verdades", não é? Existe um referencial quando você fala as suas? E eu devo escutar e tomar para mim só porque elas vêm de você?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vamos parar um pouco. Eu preciso respirar. Preciso ouvir o tempo, sentir o vento, molhar a brisa e mergulhar em algo gelado - o mar, talvez?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 370px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489547503640318066" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TC7KXqQdEHI/AAAAAAAAAh4/TVGtn-xcfJE/s400/4691012854_9c044e1c54.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;... e só então, talvez, eu possa parar e te escutar mais uma vez. escutar, talvez. ouvir, não.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-2831243044486787013?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/2831243044486787013/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=2831243044486787013&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2831243044486787013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2831243044486787013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/07/para-escutar-e-nao-ouvir.html' title='para escutar e não ouvir'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TC7KXqQdEHI/AAAAAAAAAh4/TVGtn-xcfJE/s72-c/4691012854_9c044e1c54.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-6402865080195485929</id><published>2010-06-27T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T20:37:15.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>eu fujo</title><content type='html'>quando sinto medo, ou fico triste ou chateada eu fujo. para não me expor, para não arriscar, não sofrer... e me escondo no único lugar que eu sei: a comida. é delicioso, e me faz pensar que, não importa o que esteja acontecendo lá fora no mundo, aqui dentro eu estou sendo feliz. pelo menos por enquanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e eu fico feliz. por enquanto...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-6402865080195485929?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/6402865080195485929/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=6402865080195485929&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6402865080195485929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6402865080195485929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/06/eu-fujo.html' title='eu fujo'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-8644783591001165590</id><published>2010-06-26T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T23:44:00.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>se a lua fosse minha</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sério. não quero mais. cansei. basta. não vou mais ligar, nem atender, nem mandar mensagem. não acho certo. nunca achei. mas não conseguia. agora decidi. e preciso que você me ajude. que não faça o telefone tocar, nem meu pensamento divagar olhando para a lua quando ela está cheia; e tudo bem se der vontade de te beijar, de te sentir... eu vou acreditar que vou encontrar isso em outra pessoa. em outro tempo. outra pessoa que seja certa para mim, que me faça rir, que me abrace a noite dizendo que são só trovões - que a chuva é forte sim, mas vai acabar passando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e por enquanto que é madrugada eu vou tentar ficar aqui dentro, não pensar na lua lá fora e nem nas coisas que você dizia quando eu acreditava em você. ah, sim, porque eu acreditei. foram cinco minutos tão bons. e eu acreditei quando você me dizia coisas bonitas, e me fazia acreditar que era de verdade. e outro minuto passou. eu percebi que não era bem assim... aliás, o que é do jeito que a gente pensa? nada. mas por cinco minutos foi do jeito que eu pensei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TCbyjWM5JSI/AAAAAAAAAhw/xpzT8KeYIIw/s1600/tumblr_kz8t4m8d3k1qaedipo1_500_large.png"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487339885066528034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TCbyjWM5JSI/AAAAAAAAAhw/xpzT8KeYIIw/s320/tumblr_kz8t4m8d3k1qaedipo1_500_large.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e a lua lá fora... todinha lá fora. a lua cheia.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-8644783591001165590?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/8644783591001165590/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=8644783591001165590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8644783591001165590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8644783591001165590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/06/se-lua-fosse-minha.html' title='se a lua fosse minha'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TCbyjWM5JSI/AAAAAAAAAhw/xpzT8KeYIIw/s72-c/tumblr_kz8t4m8d3k1qaedipo1_500_large.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3157193549159629098</id><published>2010-06-26T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T23:20:33.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>de bater</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TCbsnHX9kfI/AAAAAAAAAho/-UNqY1pW3OY/s1600/tumblr_l413f68jMP1qbemqao1_400_large.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 291px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487333352736133618" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TCbsnHX9kfI/AAAAAAAAAho/-UNqY1pW3OY/s400/tumblr_l413f68jMP1qbemqao1_400_large.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Porque hoje eu acordei querendo encontrar um grande amor. ou melhor, querendo que um grande amor me encontre, me arrebate e me faça sonhar acordada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;faz tanto tempo que eu não me entrego, me deixo viajar nas palavras de alguém... e só por isso hoje eu tentei lembrar como era bom quando eu estava apaixonada e não consegui. e nem foi porque meu coração não tem batido. nem parado. nem feito nada. ele só está aqui. guardadinho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;parece que a qualquer momento ele vai explodir, tomar conta de mim, me invadir de uma vez. como se fosse um temporal daqueles que destrói e deixa feridos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mas por enquanto ele está encolhidinho, com medo e cansado de bater sem motivo. de bater por bater. de viver a cada dia como se fosse igual ao passado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;e se eu me decepciono, e se espero o que não vai acontecer, eu acho que nem fico triste. e acho que nem sofro tanto. e nem choro tanto... e nem sinto mais...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-3157193549159629098?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3157193549159629098/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3157193549159629098&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3157193549159629098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3157193549159629098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/06/de-bater.html' title='de bater'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TCbsnHX9kfI/AAAAAAAAAho/-UNqY1pW3OY/s72-c/tumblr_l413f68jMP1qbemqao1_400_large.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3391814916962317902</id><published>2010-06-20T21:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T22:22:12.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>e eu soube</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TB71f31XirI/AAAAAAAAAhg/1Git5CKCeps/s1600/22440_1133786603299_1786346502_267328_8308957_n_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485091324096383666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TB71f31XirI/AAAAAAAAAhg/1Git5CKCeps/s400/22440_1133786603299_1786346502_267328_8308957_n_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tudo bem. Eu já sabia. Mas saber é uma coisa, ter certeza é outra. Quando li, nem entendi direito. Era preto na tela. Era a certeza do que eu já percebi faz tempo. Mas mesmo assim eu fiquei parada ali, e o mundo ficou mudo. E eu fiquei sem entender nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Porque no fundo, no fundo, eu ainda achava que poderia ser só impressão. E sabe aquele papo que intuição de mulher não falha? A minha devia estar off, porque juro que foi só naquela hora que eu entendi tudo. E juntei todas as peças. E saquei os comentários. E escutei o que todo mundo me falava.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;me deu vontade de te abraçar e dizer que ia dar tudo certo. que não precisava mais mentir, mais fingir perto de mim. mas eu só fiquei ali, sem reação, sem ouvir nada do que diziam perto de mim. e quando você perguntou o que eu tinha, mudei de assunto, menti. mas seria tão mais fácil dizer a verdade para você. mas eu não disse. você também não.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ou seja, o que antes eu achava agora eu sei. e fico com raiva porque você acha que eu não percebi, que está me enganando. mas porque? não seria tão mais fácil se a gente pudesse falar sobre tudo, se a gente pudesse rir de todo mundo que está do lado de fora? &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/7388661127643798955-3391814916962317902?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3391814916962317902/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3391814916962317902&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3391814916962317902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3391814916962317902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/06/e-eu-soube.html' title='e eu soube'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TB71f31XirI/AAAAAAAAAhg/1Git5CKCeps/s72-c/22440_1133786603299_1786346502_267328_8308957_n_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1952123828976930302</id><published>2010-06-15T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T16:24:11.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ele aperta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TBgLYy800jI/AAAAAAAAAhY/9Vp3k6VvexQ/s1600/Foto0008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483145066945237554" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TBgLYy800jI/AAAAAAAAAhY/9Vp3k6VvexQ/s400/Foto0008.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sempre que você chega perto meu coraçãozinho fica mais sensível, parece que ele sabe o que vem por aí. E eu já disse que não adianta falar, espernear e muito menos sentir dor. Você não quer saber. Para você está tudo bem, a gente vai se falando, vai se vendo, vai vendo até onde dá para levar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E ele não aguenta. Porque toda vez que você chega perto ele sente. E eu tento enganar, fico dizendo que não é nada, que vai passar. Para ele ser paciente e parar de ser tão exigente, parar de querer o que não deve- &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;e nem pode&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mas ele não ouve. E toda vez que você chega perto ele aperta. E me diz que dá sim, que eu nunca tentei, que às vezes ele precisa sofrer para aprender e que não tem nada demais. Mas eu não não quero - &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;e nem posso&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E continuamos assim, debatendo e discutindo, ele sempre sem razão e eu racional demais. Não é sempre assim? Mas não devia ser - &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;e nem deve&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/7388661127643798955-1952123828976930302?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1952123828976930302/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1952123828976930302&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1952123828976930302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1952123828976930302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/06/ele-aperta.html' title='Ele aperta'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TBgLYy800jI/AAAAAAAAAhY/9Vp3k6VvexQ/s72-c/Foto0008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7648952230205894650</id><published>2010-06-15T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T16:15:17.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Se a felicidade fosse...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TBgJA8tYJqI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/4HZa8fscf60/s1600/4510620066_54a0f904fe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483142458224682658" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TBgJA8tYJqI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/4HZa8fscf60/s400/4510620066_54a0f904fe.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Fiquei pensando em tudo que eu preciso fazer antes de ir. De tudo que eu ainda sonho ver, tocar, sentir, amar e percebi que é tanto, mas tanto, que não vou ter tempo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E mesmo que eu começasse nesse segundo, o tempo iria passar e eu não iria conseguir. E eu tentei abraçar o mundo e não consegui. Vai ver que ele é igual a mim, não gosta. Vai ver que ele é igual a mim. Não quer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ouvindo Laura Marling e pensando que a felicidade bem que podia ser um pequeno globo de brilhantes que a gente pudesse agarrar com os dedos e com muita força segurar. Como uma estrela que não vai a lugar algum. Como um beijo que pode durar para sempre - mas que não vai.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483142266171473266" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TBgI1xQUvXI/AAAAAAAAAhI/0TqMYa2au6U/s320/4505170454_ba106b0868.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/7388661127643798955-7648952230205894650?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7648952230205894650/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7648952230205894650&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7648952230205894650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7648952230205894650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/06/se-felicidade-fosse.html' title='Se a felicidade fosse...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TBgJA8tYJqI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/4HZa8fscf60/s72-c/4510620066_54a0f904fe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-8630171537185231148</id><published>2010-06-08T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T23:18:33.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Descontroladamente</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Atravessando a rua, percebi que tenho medo. Ou melhor, evito o medo. Prefiro não sofrer do que sofrer e sofrer. É complicado, assim como tudo que se passa aqui dentro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;E eu, que antes saía no meio da rua, parava o carro em sinal vermelho e fumava descontroladamente, me encontrei preocupada com carros na contra mão, e assaltantes de moto e enfisema. E não é assim que eu quero ser. E não é assim que eu me vejo. Mas quando páro, é assim que eu sou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;O que eu não entendo é essa pressa, essa vontade louca de fazer logo tudo. De acabar mais rápido. Como se eu fosse um pêndulo e meu relógio estivesse sempre atrasado...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 286px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480651584479307458" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TA8vlA6SJsI/AAAAAAAAAhA/m297EvL5iXg/s400/morrer.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"with no alarms and no surprises,&lt;br /&gt;no alarms and no surprises,&lt;br /&gt;no alarms and no surprises,&lt;br /&gt;Silence, silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my final fit,&lt;br /&gt;my final bellyache"&lt;br /&gt;Regina Spektor - No Surprises &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/7388661127643798955-8630171537185231148?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/8630171537185231148/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=8630171537185231148&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8630171537185231148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8630171537185231148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/06/descontroladamente.html' title='Descontroladamente'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TA8vlA6SJsI/AAAAAAAAAhA/m297EvL5iXg/s72-c/morrer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-8699913873659250283</id><published>2010-06-07T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T21:29:44.565-07:00</updated><title type='text'>celular</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TA3HAyEuqHI/AAAAAAAAAg4/4WKTbr7FMeE/s1600/hate.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480255137835296882" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TA3HAyEuqHI/AAAAAAAAAg4/4WKTbr7FMeE/s200/hate.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;jantando e conversando com outra pessoa eu vi que não é isso que eu quero. claro que de vez em quando eu roubava uma olhada no celular, mas eu já esperava que você não fosse ligar. mesmo esperando. e vi que eu quero mais, que eu mereço melhor, que no fundo eu preciso pensar mais em crescer do que em sobreviver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e eu não estou dizendo que está sendo fácil, ou que eu vou parar de pensar em você do dia para a noite. mas eu vou parar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e quando eu olhar para o meu celular, vai ser para ligar para outra pessoa. e falar sobre outras coisas.&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/7388661127643798955-8699913873659250283?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/8699913873659250283/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=8699913873659250283&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8699913873659250283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8699913873659250283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/06/celular.html' title='celular'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TA3HAyEuqHI/AAAAAAAAAg4/4WKTbr7FMeE/s72-c/hate.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5051730040985475687</id><published>2010-06-04T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T19:15:34.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>para pensar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TAmzLTZzcEI/AAAAAAAAAgw/acCcoQc2vLw/s1600/tumblr_l3exyik3Iw1qbh9puo1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TAmzLTZzcEI/AAAAAAAAAgw/acCcoQc2vLw/s400/tumblr_l3exyik3Iw1qbh9puo1_400.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479107428441354306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;eu pensei que não queria me apaixonar. tenho medo de sofrer, de me apegar, de aguentar calada, de ficar com medo de perder, de perder, de chorar de raiva e engulir o orgulho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e ontem, vi um casal que está junto há tanto tempo e ela encostou a cabeça no ombro dele. e eles seguraram a mão um do outro. e vi outro casal dançando no meio da praça e pensei: deveria ser eu. mas não, isso eu não quero. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;eu quero um amor sereno, seguro, confiante, daqueles que você não precisa ligar a todo momento para saber que ele está pensando em você... e quero abraços inesperados e pequenas declarações acompanhadas de abraços apertados. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mas o que eu realmente queria era fechar os olhos e imaginar que um dia eu vou encontrar isso. Mas eu não vou. E eu sei. E mesmo assim, eu parei de pensar.&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/7388661127643798955-5051730040985475687?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5051730040985475687/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5051730040985475687&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5051730040985475687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5051730040985475687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/06/para-pensar.html' title='para pensar'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TAmzLTZzcEI/AAAAAAAAAgw/acCcoQc2vLw/s72-c/tumblr_l3exyik3Iw1qbh9puo1_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-8069707095261424413</id><published>2010-06-04T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T19:07:15.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vai passar...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TAmw8ezUpXI/AAAAAAAAAgo/GrnzT1t7CUE/s1600/tumblr_l3i76yAMSn1qawakpo1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TAmw8ezUpXI/AAAAAAAAAgo/GrnzT1t7CUE/s400/tumblr_l3i76yAMSn1qawakpo1_400.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479104974779884914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Acorda cedo, vai para a praça trabalhar, atende mil ligações, organiza outras mil entrevistas. cancela o almoço com aquele amigo. é meio dia e o repórter não chegou. a equipe chegou mas não o caminhão de link ao vivo. corre para o jornal. hoje tem que fechar um caderno e duas colunas. almoça correndo e tenta colocar as fofocas em dia. volta para o jornal. nossa, a rede caiu. espera enquanto escreve uma matéria. espera a matéria do estagiário. cobra matéria. cobra fotos. fecha páginas. fome. um refrigerante para enganar a fome. precisa tirar férias. não, de verdade. é OBRIGADA a tirar férias logo. próxima semana? não, próximo mes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;volta para a praça. tudo ok. volta para casa. não aguenta ir para a reunião pedagógica. o computador não quer ligar. chora. o computador não entende e continua sem ligar. chora mais um pouco....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e pensa: quando vai passar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/7388661127643798955-8069707095261424413?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/8069707095261424413/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=8069707095261424413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8069707095261424413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8069707095261424413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/06/vai-passar.html' title='Vai passar...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/TAmw8ezUpXI/AAAAAAAAAgo/GrnzT1t7CUE/s72-c/tumblr_l3i76yAMSn1qawakpo1_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-6703263962613244831</id><published>2010-05-25T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T20:11:26.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love in the Afternoon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S_yQ8C6LzXI/AAAAAAAAAgg/HPo1-9mJUh4/s1600/4261921579_32f7374e3e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 235px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475410608223145330" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S_yQ8C6LzXI/AAAAAAAAAgg/HPo1-9mJUh4/s320/4261921579_32f7374e3e.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;E sei que não estou bem - bem de verdade, quando sinto vontade de ouvir Legião Urbana. Tem um quê nas letras e na voz do Renato que me faz parar para refletir, que me deixa alegre e triste ao mesmo tempo. "um contentamento descontente".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;e ontem ouvi uma música que me lembrou você. "não é sempre mas eu sei, que você está bem agora". e meus olhos encheram de lágrimas, mas elas ficaram onde estavam. e eu aumentei o volume, vi a chuva caindo e os raios iluminando a madrugada. mas não quis que acabasse. não queria parar de pensar em você, de lembrar o quanto você me faz falta. de como eu queria te conhecer melhor, de saber o quanto você era realmente especial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;queria ter pequenas anedotas da nossa vida, e queria não lembrar de você com esse peso no coração. "só não aprendi a perder". mas agora não dá mais. é tarde. o verão realmente acabou. e õ que ficou foi só saudades, só a falta que você faz. e a vontade de poder conversar com você sobre o tempo, sobre a chuva, sobre os raios, sobre o meu dia, sobre as coisas que eu queria da vida, sobre o tempo que passa rápido e que às vezes parece não passar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#000000;"&gt;e eu queria te dizer tanto, mas mais ainda queria te ouvir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;"e eu que tive um começo feliz, do resto não sei dizer..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#3366ff;"&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/7388661127643798955-6703263962613244831?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/6703263962613244831/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=6703263962613244831&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6703263962613244831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6703263962613244831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/05/love-in-afternoon.html' title='Love in the Afternoon'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S_yQ8C6LzXI/AAAAAAAAAgg/HPo1-9mJUh4/s72-c/4261921579_32f7374e3e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-4272667414822044974</id><published>2010-05-16T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T13:27:10.248-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Acredito</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S_BVDGr2fmI/AAAAAAAAAgY/1_DgFNO3oqM/s1600/spaceball.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 1px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 1px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471967059077660258" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S_BVDGr2fmI/AAAAAAAAAgY/1_DgFNO3oqM/s400/spaceball.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E você me pergunta se eu estou bem. E mesmo respondendo "sim", tudo que eu queria dizer era que não. Que parei de acreditar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Agora eu já sei que não existe príncipe encantado, que as coisas ruins acontecem com as pessoas boas, que um amigo pode sim te decepcionar e que não importa o quanto você queira alguma coisa e quanto a mereça, ela pode nunca ser sua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sinto aquele nó na garganta que dá quando você quer chorar e não consegue, e tento assistir um filme triste para ver se tudo vira lágrima, e tento ligar para ela me consolar e ela também não atende. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E no fundo eu nem sei o que ela poderia me dizer. Eu sei que ela ia me perguntar se eu estava bem, e eu dizer que "sim". E nem se você soubesse que eu estava mentido, ia ser bom saber que você se importa. E que mesmo se eu nunca melhorar, vou saber que você me ama o suficiente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;É só que às vezes o amor não é suficiente. Agora eu sei disso. Às vezes todo o amor do mundo não consegue te puxar de volta; e às vezes todo o amor de alguém não basta. Não para mim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E eu senti frio a noite, e senti que nada daria certo nunca mais. E mesmo assim, eu respondi que "sim". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ao som de: Hold On, de Alain Clark&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"And you will find what you want &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's just a little...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Someone that can ease your mind..."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-4272667414822044974?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/4272667414822044974/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=4272667414822044974&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4272667414822044974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4272667414822044974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/05/acredito.html' title='Acredito'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S_BVDGr2fmI/AAAAAAAAAgY/1_DgFNO3oqM/s72-c/spaceball.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-4949781765064964728</id><published>2010-05-14T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T17:37:36.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No vazio daqui de dentro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S-3sxwRaEgI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/bjvrMzkkxyI/s1600/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 397px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 139px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471289461840679426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S-3sxwRaEgI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/bjvrMzkkxyI/s400/untitled.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Final da novela das 8 da Globo... Eu e Yatta deitadas na cama. Jogando conversa fora. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Eu quase esqueço que nesses últimos dias não tenho andado bem. E eu tento passar o tempo, porque quando ele passa eu esqueço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc0000;"&gt;E quando eu esqueço é tão bom. O vazio tem me feito bem. Mas a verdade é que eu queria me encher, sabe? Ficar plena, repleta de tudo: felicidade, alegria, amor, paixão, sexo, risadas, bem estar, livros, músicas novas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Quero me sentir plena. E enquanto isso não acontece eu passo o tempo tapeando o vazio aqui de dentro... E assistindo televisão, e falando com os amigos, e procurando algo bom pra ler.&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/7388661127643798955-4949781765064964728?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/4949781765064964728/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=4949781765064964728&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4949781765064964728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4949781765064964728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/05/no-vazio-daqui-de-dentro.html' title='No vazio daqui de dentro'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S-3sxwRaEgI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/bjvrMzkkxyI/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-717687301196899470</id><published>2010-05-12T19:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T19:24:21.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pra chorar</title><content type='html'>E às vezes é assim. Dá vontade de ouvir Legião Urbana no Ipod, enrolada na cama com a luz apagada e chorar. Não, eu não gosto de chorar, mas às vezes faz bem. Deixar a tristeza invadir o corpo, poder se desapegar do que é certo e errado, poder me sentir uma merda grande.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e saber que mais tarde, quando a playlist acabar, ou então eu cair no sono, vou esquecer de tudo isso. esquecer que eu não consigo ser mais, nem querer mais. e tentar ser feliz só sendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"e quando chegar a noite, cada estrela parecerá uma lagrima.."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-717687301196899470?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/717687301196899470/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=717687301196899470&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/717687301196899470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/717687301196899470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/05/pra-chorar.html' title='pra chorar'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3079843362865009115</id><published>2010-04-22T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T20:04:45.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Estou de volta...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S9EOQRsQA_I/AAAAAAAAAgI/v01WEF-6wWU/s1600/tumblr_ktc5klvuuo1qzrvo0o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 390px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463163495766819826" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S9EOQRsQA_I/AAAAAAAAAgI/v01WEF-6wWU/s400/tumblr_ktc5klvuuo1qzrvo0o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Depois de não sei quanto tempo, parece que estou voltando com força total ao mundo virtual. Me jogando mesmo. Fiz twitter, atualizei meu blog de beleza... e mesmo assim, com tantos meios de comunicação, ainda senti que faltava alguma coisa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acho que, mesmo que ninguém leia, me falta soltar essas palavras que ficam me angustiando. E não, não estou na vibe emo-pré-teen. É aquela angústia que só sabe quem vive. Quem tem dúvida, quem ama muito, quem não sabe o que é amor, quem tem medo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cheguei em casa hoje, tirei a sandália rasteira e fui para a varanda. Adoro fumar na varanda. É de lá que eu vejo o mundo passar, é lá que eu me sinto bem para pensar na vida, pensar no que a vida tem feito comigo e principalmente no que eu tenho feito com ela.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mesmo caindo de cansaço, fiquei um tempão lá fora. Só esperando a resposta cair no meu colo. Mas resposta de que? Eu nem sei ainda qual é a pergunta. Ou as perguntas. Aí você me fala: assim fica difícil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Minha resposta? - Se fosse fácil, não seria viver.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-3079843362865009115?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3079843362865009115/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3079843362865009115&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3079843362865009115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3079843362865009115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2010/04/estou-de-volta.html' title='Estou de volta...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/S9EOQRsQA_I/AAAAAAAAAgI/v01WEF-6wWU/s72-c/tumblr_ktc5klvuuo1qzrvo0o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-18215633067623623</id><published>2009-03-01T11:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T12:01:31.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mentira</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SarpX53i1BI/AAAAAAAAAgA/CmnngyOiaAo/s1600-h/raquel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308311707689604114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 179px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SarpX53i1BI/AAAAAAAAAgA/CmnngyOiaAo/s320/raquel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;toda vez que o telefone toca, meu coração pára por pelo menos dois segundinhos. e não, mais uma vez não é você. é o irmão de alguém, a amiga de fulana. mas nunca você. mas meu coração sempre pára. dois segundinhos inteiros. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;a gente não tá mais junto. vou me acostumando a dizer isso para todo mundo que pergunta. porque? ah, a relação desgatou. mas eu sei que eles sabem que não foi nada disso. nem eu sei direito o que foi. sei que não estamos mais juntos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;e ninguém acabou com ninguém. e você não gritou comigo no telefone. e eu não disse que não dava mais certo. e eu não chorei à noite inteira. mentira. tudo mentira.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"diga cá para mim que agora sim eu vivi enfim um grande amor... mentira" Chico Buarque&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&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/7388661127643798955-18215633067623623?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/18215633067623623/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=18215633067623623&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/18215633067623623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/18215633067623623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2009/03/mentira.html' title='mentira'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SarpX53i1BI/AAAAAAAAAgA/CmnngyOiaAo/s72-c/raquel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5857375599910491424</id><published>2008-10-31T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T19:20:57.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minutos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SQu89MDJD3I/AAAAAAAAAVg/buUDT-ADxEI/s1600-h/jen+corace2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263508348905000818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SQu89MDJD3I/AAAAAAAAAVg/buUDT-ADxEI/s400/jen+corace2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Faltam pouco mais de 42 minutos para eu ter certeza que uma semana passou. E eu continuei aqui. Tentando procurar algum motivo, alguma razão. E é verdade, todas elas estavam lá - só eu não vi. E agora eu vejo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E mesmo assim ainda sinto falta de dormir contigo, de te contar do meu dia, de te falar dos meus planos, do que está dando certo e dos medos que eu tenho de tudo dar errado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Eu tento não contar os dias, não calcular as horas... mas é difícil. Na verdade, está sendo mais difícil do que eu achei. Mas vai passar. Pelo menos é o que todo mundo me diz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E eu estou aqui, esperando 41 minutos pra ter certeza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&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/7388661127643798955-5857375599910491424?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5857375599910491424/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5857375599910491424&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5857375599910491424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5857375599910491424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2008/10/minutos.html' title='Minutos'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SQu89MDJD3I/AAAAAAAAAVg/buUDT-ADxEI/s72-c/jen+corace2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7970766227849847020</id><published>2008-08-19T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T13:33:04.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>não sei</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SKstfp21VpI/AAAAAAAAAVY/BLSBHCfJJxk/s1600-h/jen+corace1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236329013583369874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SKstfp21VpI/AAAAAAAAAVY/BLSBHCfJJxk/s400/jen+corace1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;é porque às vezes - e às vezes muitas vezes - a gente se sente assim, meio down... e parece que nada nunca mais vai dar certo. e outras não, a gente tem certeza de que as coisas ruins vão passar. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;hoje eu não sei mais.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Imagem de Jen Corace&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/7388661127643798955-7970766227849847020?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7970766227849847020/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7970766227849847020&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7970766227849847020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7970766227849847020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-sei.html' title='não sei'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SKstfp21VpI/AAAAAAAAAVY/BLSBHCfJJxk/s72-c/jen+corace1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5545660359857990560</id><published>2008-08-12T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T17:22:39.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sempre em paz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SKIpIWqvIfI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/s12edN-HJyw/s1600-h/kathie+olivas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233790940458459634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SKIpIWqvIfI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/s12edN-HJyw/s400/kathie+olivas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Era mais uma noite, de mais um dia, no mesmo lugar de antes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;pensando em tudo - que já foi, que será, que podia ter se tornado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e, sem querer, é inevitável lembrar do teu sorriso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;saber que eu já estive nos teus braços me dá paz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;me deixa em paz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;te ter me fez feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sempre. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-5545660359857990560?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5545660359857990560/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5545660359857990560&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5545660359857990560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5545660359857990560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2008/08/sempre-em-paz.html' title='sempre em paz'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/SKIpIWqvIfI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/s12edN-HJyw/s72-c/kathie+olivas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-211309037851867141</id><published>2008-03-16T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T16:32:18.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Procuro...</title><content type='html'>Eu vivo procurando... procurando emagrecer, procurando um livro bom para ler, procurando não dormir tanto, procurando jeitos e maneiras de agradar, procurando matérias exclusivas... acho que eu, assim como a maioria de vocês, vive de procurar alguma coisa. Seja lá ela o que for, é tão bom achar que não se encontrou tudo na vida - pelo menos por enquanto.&lt;br /&gt;Se a vida fosse prefeita, não teria graçca, não teria diversão... porque, pelo menos por aqui, metade dela é procurar....&lt;br /&gt;e sigamos...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-211309037851867141?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/211309037851867141/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=211309037851867141&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/211309037851867141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/211309037851867141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2008/03/procuro.html' title='Procuro...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-2703525941033294676</id><published>2008-02-08T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T13:55:22.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"the sun's a ball of butter"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R6zPtKN32II/AAAAAAAAAU4/j3NGkN3ZJGg/s1600-h/fg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164731247430719618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R6zPtKN32II/AAAAAAAAAU4/j3NGkN3ZJGg/s400/fg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Em Sobral, na casa do meu tio que tem todos os canais do mundo, me deparei ontem de madrugada com uma das minhas atrizes prediletas em um dos filmes mais legais do mundo.. Funny Girl, de 1968, com o Omar Sharif e a Barbara Streissand é tudo... e tudo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Life's candy and the sun's a ball of butter"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ou então&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Nick: I'd be happy to wait while you change.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fanny: I'd have to change too much, nobody could wait that long."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-2703525941033294676?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/2703525941033294676/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=2703525941033294676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2703525941033294676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2703525941033294676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2008/02/suns-ball-of-butter.html' title='&quot;the sun&apos;s a ball of butter&quot;'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R6zPtKN32II/AAAAAAAAAU4/j3NGkN3ZJGg/s72-c/fg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5172544910445371420</id><published>2008-02-04T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T18:02:02.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>não faço...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Eu tanto penso que não faço. Acredito que no fim, tudo se ajeita, e a vida segue em frente... ou não segue. O melhor da vida é isso, é a incerteza, é acordar com medo do que vem por aí... é abrir a porta de casa com o peito aberto e a cara... tentando encontrar coragem.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e aí o calor bate no nosso rosto e a gente sai. Enfrenta carro buzinando, o mundo gritando, fala com gente chata, tropeça nos nossos erros, sorri de besteiras e nesse meio tempo tenta viver. e consegue. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e quando, finalmente a gente chega em casa, tira o sapato, liga o ar condicionado e vai dormir, fecha os olhos e lembra que amanhã vai ser tudo igual. e lembra que tem medo de acordar e encarar o que vem por aí....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163309445752019058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R6fClaN32HI/AAAAAAAAAUw/fcQcQV35oVM/s200/Bi%C3%A1+042.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Foto: Nós todas, eu com ela, nós com coca-cola, martini e bolo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(síndrome da saudade)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-5172544910445371420?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5172544910445371420/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5172544910445371420&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5172544910445371420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5172544910445371420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2008/02/no-fao.html' title='não faço...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R6fClaN32HI/AAAAAAAAAUw/fcQcQV35oVM/s72-c/Bi%C3%A1+042.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3087394593180944837</id><published>2007-12-31T09:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T10:48:39.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>me prometo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R3k4_5W1iVI/AAAAAAAAAUg/8NmCaDp0wmU/s1600-h/beatriz+vidal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150210319254391122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="265" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R3k4_5W1iVI/AAAAAAAAAUg/8NmCaDp0wmU/s400/beatriz+vidal.jpg" width="371" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e o tempo não pára. ele também não volta, não faz as coisas melhorarem e nem piorarem. o tempo simplesmente passa. ele traz consigo alegrias e tristezas, mas também as carrega consigo. e é por isso que a cada ano que entra - e claro, conseqüentemente, cada ano que sai - deixamos crescer dentro da gente aquela coisa chamada "esperança". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;esperança de que iremos seguir o regime, diminuir a quantidade de cigarros, deixar para trás aquele alguém que não nos faz bem, dar bom dia/obrigada/boa noite a todos que cruzam nosso caminho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e aí a esperança morre logo na primeira semana quando a gente repete a sobremesa e fuma um cigarrinho para digerir melhor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;então, só o que eu estou pedindo/ desejando / prometendo é buscar simplicidade. simples assim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tentarei não complicar o complicado, chorar sobre o leite derramado e nem me perguntar as coisas para as quais sei que não existem respostas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;simples assim. e é o que desejo à você ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/7388661127643798955-3087394593180944837?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3087394593180944837/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3087394593180944837&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3087394593180944837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3087394593180944837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/12/me-prometo.html' title='me prometo...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R3k4_5W1iVI/AAAAAAAAAUg/8NmCaDp0wmU/s72-c/beatriz+vidal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-521528744442152914</id><published>2007-12-06T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T14:02:44.317-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Para pensar...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R1hxWJzPMRI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/j5twi0Rg_ps/s1600-h/kurt2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140983600045306130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R1hxWJzPMRI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/j5twi0Rg_ps/s400/kurt2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ana: Love bores you. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dan: No, it disappoints me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;Diálogo tirado diretamente de "Closer". Só pra deixar a gente pensando no final de semana. Pra que ama. E para quem simplesmente não.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-521528744442152914?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/521528744442152914/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=521528744442152914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/521528744442152914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/521528744442152914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/12/para-pensar.html' title='Para pensar...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R1hxWJzPMRI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/j5twi0Rg_ps/s72-c/kurt2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-391545751680575091</id><published>2007-11-29T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T13:37:25.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Carta para uma amiga</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R08wotpOhrI/AAAAAAAAAUI/Q_gvzgSEEpg/s1600-h/friends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138379175858439858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R08wotpOhrI/AAAAAAAAAUI/Q_gvzgSEEpg/s400/friends.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Querida você,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se pudesse, te envolveria em meus braços, te daria os parabéns e diria que te amo. Mas isso já sabes. Agora, que vou te amar em dobro, sei que tua felicidade não tem tamanho. Sei que teu sorriso - que já era imenso, agora deve estar bem maior. E é por isso que te escrevo, para te dar os parabéns.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É importante dizer que os dias que virão podem nem ser assim tão fáceis, mas serão bons. E valerão a pena. Claro que não sei, mas todas dizem que ao ver aquele ser tão pequeno, que veio todo de ti, a emoção é inexplicável. Eu acredito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gerar vida, amar a vida que se gerou e ensiná-la que o mundo pode se tornar complicado mas continuará sempre lindo é importante. E isso eu sei que você saberá fazer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mal posso esperar pra te ver, toda barriguda, andando por aí, espalhando teu sorriso e teu olhar de felicidade. De pura felicidade. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É só tudo isso que te desejo amiga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em dobro.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&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/7388661127643798955-391545751680575091?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/391545751680575091/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=391545751680575091&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/391545751680575091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/391545751680575091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/11/carta-para-uma-amiga.html' title='Carta para uma amiga'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R08wotpOhrI/AAAAAAAAAUI/Q_gvzgSEEpg/s72-c/friends.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7915519959977855597</id><published>2007-11-24T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T21:59:09.208-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Era tarde...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ela saiu de mais uma festa, dirigiu pela cidade sem rumo. Queria parar em algum lugar, ver os amigos, quem sabe conversar. Mas não quis. Dentro do carro ela se sentia tão segura, tão ela, que o caminho mais longo acabou se tornando uma voltinha pelas ruas, uma pausa para o cigarro que ela aproveitou ao máximo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Em silêncio, o mundo parecia que era só dela, e ela lembrou de quando realmente era. Desde pequena ela pensou que iria conquistar as montanhas mais altas, trabalhar com as coisas mais legais, amar de corpo e alma e se aventurar pela vida afora. Mas não, era sábado à noite e ela estava parada no posto de gasolina, fumando o mesmo cigarro de sempre e vendo a vida passar - devagar, é verdade, mas passar - pela janela. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cada tragada a fez lembrar de pessoas que ela nunca conheceu, outras que conheceu e acabou perdendo contato, os lugares que ela jurou visitar e a vida que ela nunca teve escorreu por entre seus dedos. Ela até tentou segurar, mas foi muito rápido. Assim como seus pensamentos, e as coisas que não foram nem nunca serão, a vida que ela sempre sonhou foi embora. Bem rápido. Ela até queria voltar, mas não dava mais. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Era tarde. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Assim, ela ligou o carro, fechou a mão que ainda estava suja do tempo e seguiu. Foi embora, mas não sem antes dar uma última olhada pela janela. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Era tarde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136652465861461666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R0kOM9pOhqI/AAAAAAAAAUA/_BZEWlXvPpo/s320/jen+corace.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Contemplo o lago mudo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;F. Pessoa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contemplo o lago mudo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Que uma brisa estremece. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não sei se penso em tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ou se tudo me esquece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;O lago nada me diz, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não sinto a brisa mexê-lo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não sei se sou feliz &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nem se desejo sê-lo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trêmulos vincos risonhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Na água adormecida. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que fiz eu dos sonhos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A minha única vida? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-7915519959977855597?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7915519959977855597/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7915519959977855597&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7915519959977855597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7915519959977855597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/11/era-tarde.html' title='Era tarde...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/R0kOM9pOhqI/AAAAAAAAAUA/_BZEWlXvPpo/s72-c/jen+corace.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5738434856382464942</id><published>2007-11-13T12:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:27:25.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Razões ... e emoções...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RzoIazcJJCI/AAAAAAAAAT4/xsb0V1QCB-M/s1600-h/P1200374.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132423981919970338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RzoIazcJJCI/AAAAAAAAAT4/xsb0V1QCB-M/s320/P1200374.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Photo:"" `cause you and I both know..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sabe aquela música: "entre razões e emoções há saída"? tô pensando muito nela ultimamente.... quando realmente temos saída? e se a saída for magoar alguém? vale a pena sair? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;às vezes a gente se perde em um belo mar de sentimentos e não consegue mais sair, ou então vê que está se afogando e, mesmo que alguém estenda a mão para nos ajudar, a gente não pega... ou então nem nota que a mão estendida é cheia de boas intenções.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;bem, fazia tempo que não atualizava, e é uma pena decepcionar com esta atualização que não é lá essas coisas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;saudações!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-5738434856382464942?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5738434856382464942/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5738434856382464942&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5738434856382464942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5738434856382464942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/11/razes-e-emoes.html' title='Razões ... e emoções...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RzoIazcJJCI/AAAAAAAAAT4/xsb0V1QCB-M/s72-c/P1200374.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5505116849690157705</id><published>2007-11-01T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T15:06:20.565-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cansei!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RypNUjnDZDI/AAAAAAAAATw/Jb0LYjyg2a8/s1600-h/sandy+e+jr3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127996141266494514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RypNUjnDZDI/AAAAAAAAATw/Jb0LYjyg2a8/s320/sandy+e+jr3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Photo By Biá Boakari - Show Sandy &amp;amp; Jr.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Cansei de sair. Na verdade, nem foi de sair. Foi de chegar em casa, fedendo a cerveja e cigarro, com a maquiagem borrada, fingindo estar feliz quando na verdade estou cansada. Cansada de tentar me divertir ouvindo músicas que poderia ter ouvido em casa, tentar conversar com pessoas que eu mal consegui ouvir porque o som estava muito alto e sempre chegava alguém, ser simpática quando o que eu mais queria era sair o mais rápido dali. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Fora tudo isto, ainda tem o fato de querer sair para encontrar o príncipe encantado, mesmo sabendo que se ele existe de verdade, eu não iria querer nada com ele se ele estivesse por aquelas bandas. &lt;strong&gt;Não mesmo....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E não, não acho que estou ficando velha. Diria que a cada saída vou ficando mais seletiva. Quero menos saídas e mais diversão - com as pessoas certas, nos lugares em que me sinto bem, fazendo coisas que me deixem tranqüila...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lendo: "Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me" da Pattie Boyd&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ouvindo: Layla, do Eric Clapton&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Assistindo: Nada de bom&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&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/7388661127643798955-5505116849690157705?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5505116849690157705/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5505116849690157705&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5505116849690157705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5505116849690157705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/11/cansei.html' title='Cansei!'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RypNUjnDZDI/AAAAAAAAATw/Jb0LYjyg2a8/s72-c/sandy+e+jr3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-8936920714472592913</id><published>2007-10-26T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T13:22:13.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paint a heart repeating, beating</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uma amiga minha está sofrendo. Muito. Parece que, após um ano tentando mostrar que ela era forte, finalmente desabou. E está sofrendo muito. E quando conversamos, me encontro nas palavras dela, no olhar que mareja quando ela pensa o que aconteceu, na culpa do que ela está sentindo e nos pensamentos que ela&lt;/span&gt; está tendo. &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me vejo há alguns anos atrás, quando eu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tentava ser forte por dentro porque achava que assim - e só assim - eu conseguiria me manter em pé. Até que cai. E sofri muito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando converso com ela, a maior vontade que tenho é de abraçá-la e dizer que tudo vai ficar bem. Que, no final, só os fortes é que sofrem de verdade. Mas me seguro. Eu sei que sofrer faz parte de tudo, e que chegou a hora dela mostrar o que aqueles que a amam já sabem: o quanto ela é forte. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125738079390491682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RyJHoDnDZCI/AAAAAAAAATo/rs3ZrBKX-Io/s200/CIMG4419.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E mesmo sabendo disso tudo e me segurando, ainda desejo dizer bem baixinho, para que só o coração dela ouça:&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;teu sorriso é lindo. e faz falta.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Movies, TV screens reflect just what you expected&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;There's a world of shiny people somewhere else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Out there following their blissliving easy, getting kissed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;while you wonder what else you're doing wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Breathe through it, write a list of desires&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Make a toast, make a wish, slash some tires&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Paint a heart repeating, beating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Weepies &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-8936920714472592913?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/8936920714472592913/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=8936920714472592913&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8936920714472592913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8936920714472592913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/10/paint-heart-repeating-beating.html' title='Paint a heart repeating, beating'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RyJHoDnDZCI/AAAAAAAAATo/rs3ZrBKX-Io/s72-c/CIMG4419.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7668486616782976380</id><published>2007-10-20T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T20:34:38.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>goteiras no céu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rx68s2Bf1vI/AAAAAAAAATg/mx-1KKwxaDo/s1600-h/kurtchair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124740904596264690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rx68s2Bf1vI/AAAAAAAAATg/mx-1KKwxaDo/s320/kurtchair.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;enquanto o mundo tá passando todo lá fora, eu tô aqui dentro... dentro de mim, tentando achar uma coisa boa para mostrar para aquelas pessoas com as quais me importo. a cada segundo eu penso que achei algo novo, mas nada, tudo é o mesmo de sempre...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;e se às coisas boas começam a acontecer lá fora, eu queria parar o que estou fazendo aqui dentro, dar uma olhadinha e ficar contente. quem sabe em uma dessas noites de lua nova, quando tudo pode acontecer eu aconteça também. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;mas por enquanto eu estou preferindo ficar aqui dentro, curtindo as pessoas e as coisas que eu amo - e que, ainda bem, parecem gostar de mim também...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;"Será que as estrelas são goteiras do telhado de Deus? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Porque sei que as goteiras são estrelas do telhado meu! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Por que não duvidar daquilo que se pensa crê? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Por que não acreditar naquilo que não se pode vê?" &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Validuaté&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;..................noite bem legal na casa da Gorda tal dia - ela falando e eu aqui escrevendo......&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/7388661127643798955-7668486616782976380?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7668486616782976380/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7668486616782976380&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7668486616782976380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7668486616782976380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/10/goteiras-no-cu.html' title='goteiras no céu'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rx68s2Bf1vI/AAAAAAAAATg/mx-1KKwxaDo/s72-c/kurtchair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3116756592272901981</id><published>2007-10-19T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T09:34:54.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Viver...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RxjcGmBf1uI/AAAAAAAAATY/6zF50iL5rNY/s1600-h/bia+e+gaya.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123086581978093282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RxjcGmBf1uI/AAAAAAAAATY/6zF50iL5rNY/s400/bia+e+gaya.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Foto: Eu e a Gaya, a filhotinha da &lt;a href="http://anuchamelo.blogspot.com/"&gt;Nucha&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Então pra que? Pra quem? Por que? Por que acordo todos os dias? Se eu sinto prazer em escrever é para que alguém leia. Alguém que certamente vai me magoar um dia. E vai embora. Se eu ganho dinheiro é para comprar coisas que um dia vão acabar. Se eu rezo é para ter uma paz que daqui a pouco vai embora. Tudo vai embora. Todos vão embora. Se tudo acaba, então, meu Deus, pra que se vive? Pra que? E nessa de tanto perguntar, não é que descobri! &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu acho, de verdade, do fundo da minha alma, que se vive única e exclusivamente para se viver&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;" Tati Bernardi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;................sem lá muita criatividade................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-3116756592272901981?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3116756592272901981/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3116756592272901981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3116756592272901981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3116756592272901981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/10/viver.html' title='Viver...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RxjcGmBf1uI/AAAAAAAAATY/6zF50iL5rNY/s72-c/bia+e+gaya.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1119606232849174067</id><published>2007-10-08T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T14:11:41.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>aprendendo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sabe aquele texto que diz: "na &lt;em&gt;vida&lt;/em&gt; a gente aprende que..."" ? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Estava pensando muito nele ontem. Pensando que na vida a gente aprende que, só porque algo importa muito para você, não quer dizer que seja &lt;em&gt;importante&lt;/em&gt; para as outras pessoas. e nem que elas irão agir como você gostaria. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;quem é você para esperar algo delas? o que te faz tão &lt;em&gt;especial&lt;/em&gt;? isso... &lt;em&gt;nada&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E mesmo pensando nisso, ainda estou &lt;em&gt;aprendendo&lt;/em&gt;... e sofrendo... e deixando a dor passar um pouco para dar um rumo à vida. um rumo &lt;em&gt;diferente&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"she had passed these years in a distant corner of her mind. A dry, barren field, out beyond wish and lament, beyond dream and desillusionment. There, the future did not matter. And the past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaging mistake, and its acoomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion. And whenever those twin poisonous flowers began to sprout in the parched land of that field, Marian uprooted them. She uprooted them and ditched them before they took hold..." &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A Thousand Splendid Suns&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Khaled Hossein&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/7388661127643798955-1119606232849174067?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1119606232849174067/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1119606232849174067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1119606232849174067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1119606232849174067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/10/aprendendo.html' title='aprendendo...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-6305430510275088838</id><published>2007-10-04T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T19:41:18.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tenho preguiça...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Conversando com a &lt;a href="http://www.cokeandnet.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ídola &lt;/a&gt;chegamos a conclusão que temos preguiça das pessoas. De apresentá-las ao nosso mundo. Ai, ai... conversas de meia noite sempre rendem posts legais... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Clementine, The Tangerine diz:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;e eu tenho preguiça de apresentar pessoas estranhas ao meu mundo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;BiaLinhares [...Life Happens While You Make Plans...] diz:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;sabe Ídola, acho que a gente vai ficar sozinha mesmo...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BiaLinhares [...Life Happens While You Make Plans...] diz:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;a gente tem preguiça das pessoas....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;BiaLinhares [...Life Happens While You Make Plans...] diz:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;e nao sei se isso é bom...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clementine, The Tangerine enviou 4/10/2007 23:14:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;ah eu acho que não é bom&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Clementine, The Tangerine diz:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;eu acho que a partir de certa idade e certo nível de comodismo, você não muda mais..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Pra variar, Fernando Pessoa é "o cara". Ele escreve e tudo que ele fala faz sentido. Pelo menos para mim. Pelo menos hoje.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sossega, coração! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não desesperes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Talvez um dia, para além dos dias,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Encontres o que queres porque o queres.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Então, livre de falsas nostalgias,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Atingirás a perfeição de seres.&lt;br /&gt;Mas pobre sonho o que só quer não tê-lo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Pobre esperença a de existir somente!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Como quem passa a mão pelo cabelo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E em si mesmo se sente diferente,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Como faz mal ao sonho o concebê-lo!&lt;br /&gt;Sossega, coração, contudo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dorme!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;O sossego não quer razão nem causa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Quer só a noite plácida e enorme,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A grande, universal, solente pausa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Antes que tudo em tudo se transforme. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Fernando Pessoa, 2-8-1933&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-6305430510275088838?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/6305430510275088838/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=6305430510275088838&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6305430510275088838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6305430510275088838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/10/conversando-com-dola-chegamos-concluso.html' title='Tenho preguiça...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-912814061238999750</id><published>2007-09-27T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T17:55:09.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>melancolia... melancolia...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RvxQe2Bf1tI/AAAAAAAAATQ/taiOpjQSsP4/s1600-h/raquel2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115051767614133970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RvxQe2Bf1tI/AAAAAAAAATQ/taiOpjQSsP4/s400/raquel2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e é do alto (ou seria baixo) da minha melancolia que te escrevo estas linhas mal traçadas, mal escritas, tão doloridas e tão sinceras... já vi um filme, já li dois capítulos daquele livro que você achou chato e agora a tv está ligada. Mas não, não é um dia como o de ontem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;eu ainda te vejo saindo pela porta e indo embora, fechando-a com tanto carinho que para o espectador incauto, você parecia querer ficar. Mas não, não para mim. Eu sabia desde o começo que a gente seria só isso mesmo. Uma noite. E nada mais. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sem nada para dizer, ainda tentei encontrar teus olhos, mas já era tarde. A porta estava fechada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;foi tarde demais. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e o pior é saber que, mesmo hoje, do alto da minha melancolia, se você me desse um sinal, eu me consumiria de culpa, de gula, e sairia correndo, entraria no carro e acenderia um cigarro atrás do outro, avançaria sinais vermelhos, venceria a dor e a vergonha e me entregaria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;mesmo sabendo que, mais uma vez, a gente seria só isso mesmo. Uma noite. E nada mais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;melancolia... melancolia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;....................qualquer semelhança com personagens e situações verídicas é mera coincidência............&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/7388661127643798955-912814061238999750?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/912814061238999750/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=912814061238999750&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/912814061238999750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/912814061238999750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/09/melancolia-melancolia.html' title='melancolia... melancolia...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RvxQe2Bf1tI/AAAAAAAAATQ/taiOpjQSsP4/s72-c/raquel2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5170574050731673970</id><published>2007-09-24T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T20:19:52.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pára...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rvh9-WBf1sI/AAAAAAAAATI/cNLh8D3p-qY/s1600-h/DSCF6787.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113975886896420546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rvh9-WBf1sI/AAAAAAAAATI/cNLh8D3p-qY/s200/DSCF6787.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Quero sair, mas precisa ser agora. Não aguento mais essa sua gentileza forçada, o seu abraço que me dói o corpo todo, as músicas que eram nossas. Sei que quando te vejo me esqueço de tudo, desprometo promessas e jogo tudo pro alto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E quando você não está aqui, tudo fica tão mais fácil... meu sorriso machuca só um pouco - e mesmo assim continuo sorrindo, lembrando da sua gentileza, do seu abraço, das canções que já nem fazem mais tanto sentido assim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mas fazem [pelo menos pra mim].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;..........loucuras e devaneios enquanto a gente assiste "The Holiday".......................&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/7388661127643798955-5170574050731673970?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5170574050731673970/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5170574050731673970&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5170574050731673970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5170574050731673970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/09/pra.html' title='Pára...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rvh9-WBf1sI/AAAAAAAAATI/cNLh8D3p-qY/s72-c/DSCF6787.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-2047667490151330099</id><published>2007-09-21T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T17:16:00.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Os anéis de Saturno...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Tá tudo tão estranho hoje, parece que a gente está em Saturno.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"É? Então porque tu não voa pra casa??"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uma noite de sexta-feira, no Byatta's bar... Cerveja, vinho, queijo, salame, pizza e muita conversa jogada fora... &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A-M-O&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112815399617943218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RvRehGBf1rI/AAAAAAAAATA/WxYoxWK8-nI/s320/DSCF6741.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Words Spin Madly On: &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Weepies&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Everything that I said I’d do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Like make the world brand new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And take the time for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I just got lost and slept right through the dawn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And the world spins madly on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I let the day go by I always say goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I watch the stars from my window sill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The whole world is moving &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and I’m standing still ...&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/7388661127643798955-2047667490151330099?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/2047667490151330099/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=2047667490151330099&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2047667490151330099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2047667490151330099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/09/os-anis-de-saturno.html' title='Os anéis de Saturno...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RvRehGBf1rI/AAAAAAAAATA/WxYoxWK8-nI/s72-c/DSCF6741.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-527309855242215565</id><published>2007-09-17T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T17:26:48.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Palavras</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Para ser sincera, as palavras às vezes me fogem à mente. Na verdade, elas sempre me fogem. Faço esforço tremendo para capturá-las e, se não consigo, elas se perdem de mim para sempre. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando paro, idéias e mais idéias povoam meu pensamento, e creio que se pudesse copiá-las de imediato, certamente elas estariam aqui, neste mundo virtual que chamo de blog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas não, assim como deixo meus sentimentos e vontades irem embora, também deixo escapulirem as palavras. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, se aqui estou, escrevendo sobre palavras, pensamentos, sentimentos e vontades que não consegui capturar, é porque, infelizmente, eles se foram... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;pra sempre...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111333172873418866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Ru8acJHKWHI/AAAAAAAAAS4/05KX1PjtXJ8/s320/bia+mundoposto.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Na minha radiola: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Magic Numbers: Love Me Like You&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't let your white dress wear you out&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh, honey it's the look in your eyes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh, cause honey I can see you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All my life&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'd hurt the ones I loved&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But baby you could turn it round&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;...............devaneios no calor insuportável do teu quarto.................&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/7388661127643798955-527309855242215565?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/527309855242215565/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=527309855242215565&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/527309855242215565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/527309855242215565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/09/palavras.html' title='Palavras'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Ru8acJHKWHI/AAAAAAAAAS4/05KX1PjtXJ8/s72-c/bia+mundoposto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-4712478858885292363</id><published>2007-09-14T22:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T22:44:59.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>os caminhos que tracei borraram...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Quando a gente está procurando as respostas pra vida, ela vem e muda as perguntas de um jeito que não importa o quanto você estava esperando, consegue ser pego de surpresa! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;hoje, por exemplo, tinha planejado sair, ver uma das minhas bandas prediletas de todo-mundo-toda-hora-bem-forte. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ao invés disso, fiz programinha à três, comendo brigadeiro e pizza. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tinha planejado colocar aqui um texto muito legal da Tati Bernadi - que eu AMO! mas aí, quando eu já tinha até entrado na internet, minha irmã me mostrou um vídeo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nele, Dick Hoyt carrega o filho durante dois dias para que os dois finalizem a prova Ironman. Para quem não lembra, essa prova inclui natação, ciclismo e corrida. Atletas treinam feito loucos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Rick e seu pai Dick Hoyt não fazem questão de ganhar - querem somente competir. Assistindo ao vídeo, minha garganta travou e meus olhos encheram de água. E eu aqui, achando ruim porque a vida não está acontecendo como eu queria... porque os caminhos que eu tracei ficaram um pouco borrados... porque a vida mudou as perguntas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Enquanto isso, Nick e Dick nem se importam... continuam correndo, andando de bicicleta e nadando. Sim, juntos, porque apesar de Nick ser tetraplégico e não ter movimento na língua, é ele que dá força ao pai. É o sonho dele que o pai realiza a cada competição que finaliza e cada fita que ele cruza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tem o vídeo aqui:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QMc3dElds70"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QMc3dElds70" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e um link pra história deles no CNN aqui:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/US/9911/29/hoyt.family/index.html"&gt;http://www.cnn.com/US/9911/29/hoyt.family/index.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-4712478858885292363?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/4712478858885292363/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=4712478858885292363&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4712478858885292363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4712478858885292363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/09/os-caminhos-que-tracei-borraram.html' title='os caminhos que tracei borraram...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-6848288326945994986</id><published>2007-09-11T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T21:54:59.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mais eu</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rudw3ZHKWEI/AAAAAAAAASc/sIsns-gkhNs/s1600-h/nos3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109176399211157570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rudw3ZHKWEI/AAAAAAAAASc/sIsns-gkhNs/s320/nos3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[Photo: Um dia desses, um momento bem bom...]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Eu acho vocês tão importante, mas tão importantes, que não existiria eu por completo sem nossas risadas, nossas piadas, nossas verdades, nossas brincadeiras, nossas cortadas, nossas brigas. Hoje, eu sei, sou mais eu por vocês.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/7388661127643798955-6848288326945994986?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/6848288326945994986/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=6848288326945994986&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6848288326945994986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6848288326945994986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/09/domingo.html' title='mais eu'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rudw3ZHKWEI/AAAAAAAAASc/sIsns-gkhNs/s72-c/nos3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-2702265531402822640</id><published>2007-09-07T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T17:53:29.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passou...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107628758213148290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RuHxS1HdPoI/AAAAAAAAASM/2ZyY4tjvXLQ/s200/CIMG4125.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[Photo: O que a boca cala, a face fala]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fica parada, estamos falando sério. É devagar que a gente aprende a ser feliz. É com passos lentos e inseguros que conhecemos a pessoa mais importante que existe no mundo: nós mesmos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Muitos virão e irão, e chegarão e marcarão sua vida, mas você - ah, sim - você fica pra sempre...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu te pergunto quem você ama e você me dá uma lista imensa, fala que são parte do seu coração, são as pessoas que te completam. Quando pergunto o que tá passando aí dentro, você desconversa. Olha pro lado, sem saber. Mas eu, aqui do outro lado, sei por você. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Entendo que a vida te faz sorrir, mas também me lembro que quando você chorou, eu estava perto. E quando pensou que era o fim de tudo, a gente se abraçou e te prometi que ia passar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E passou... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;.... divagações de uma noite em casa, comendo macarrão e ralando queijo pra mamãe........&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-2702265531402822640?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/2702265531402822640/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=2702265531402822640&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2702265531402822640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2702265531402822640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/09/passou.html' title='Passou...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RuHxS1HdPoI/AAAAAAAAASM/2ZyY4tjvXLQ/s72-c/CIMG4125.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5759877034945820984</id><published>2007-09-04T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T17:10:17.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cinderela... ou não...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando era pequena queria ser Cinderela, perder meu sapatinho em uma escadaria destas qualquer, ser perseguida pelo meu príncipe e depois acabar no "felizes para sempre".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ao invés disso, trabalho direto, durmo pouco, como muito e fumo horrores - e a noite tenho pesadelos nos quais perco o sapatinho de cristal... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E para os crédulos que vão me perguntar se não sonho com um final feliz, a verdade é que já aprendi: se não tiver final feliz, tudo bem ... tem sempre o "que seja eterno enquanto dure", do Vinícius.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106503920178008098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rt3yQo5ZkCI/AAAAAAAAAR8/2bW7EurRrvk/s320/CIMG4165.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quem sabe um dia,né?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;P.s.: Não, não deixei de ser impaquerável nem comecei a sonhar com o amor perfeito... &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/7388661127643798955-5759877034945820984?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5759877034945820984/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5759877034945820984&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5759877034945820984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5759877034945820984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/09/cinderela-ou-no.html' title='Cinderela... ou não...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rt3yQo5ZkCI/AAAAAAAAAR8/2bW7EurRrvk/s72-c/CIMG4165.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7009037894825238355</id><published>2007-09-03T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T18:01:08.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O RIO CONTINUA LINDO...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Viagem maravilhosa!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   saidinha pra Lapa com samba de mesa, idas e voltas e mais idas até a Visconde de Pirajá, almoço de filé com arroz no Shopping Leblon, conversa embaixo do edredon com minha prima que eu amo, café-da-manhã com a outra prima que está grávida, comprinhas (porque ninguém é de ferro), lanches na Martinica, voltinha pelas ruas de Ipanema, choppinho no Botequim Informal e no Devassa, ônibus com ar-condicionado e música clássica, o melhor Petit Gateu do mundo, Mu acordando de bom humor, e uma certeza:   &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O RIO CONTINUA LINDO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106145870229376978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RtysnY5Zj9I/AAAAAAAAARU/cLaYxCXSH5g/s200/CIMG4192.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Biá e Bia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rtysn45Zj-I/AAAAAAAAARc/Lad0pQIQ7Cg/s1600-h/CIMG4198.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106145878819311586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rtysn45Zj-I/AAAAAAAAARc/Lad0pQIQ7Cg/s200/CIMG4198.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Biá, Mari, Bia e Piero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RtysoY5Zj_I/AAAAAAAAARk/xUxebK7YtEk/s1600-h/CIMG4209.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106145887409246194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RtysoY5Zj_I/AAAAAAAAARk/xUxebK7YtEk/s200/CIMG4209.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; Biá e o Rio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rtysoo5ZkAI/AAAAAAAAARs/7uKAFptxhck/s1600-h/CIMG4230.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106145891704213506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rtysoo5ZkAI/AAAAAAAAARs/7uKAFptxhck/s200/CIMG4230.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Biá e Mu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RtyspY5ZkBI/AAAAAAAAAR0/jivrVl8UQOU/s1600-h/CIMG4270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106145904589115410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RtyspY5ZkBI/AAAAAAAAAR0/jivrVl8UQOU/s200/CIMG4270.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mu, Pedro, Luís Neto, Biá e Minão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não deixe o samba morrer: &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Alcione&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Não deixe o samba morrer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Não deixe o samba acabar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;O morro foi feito de samba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;De samba pra gente sambar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quando eu não puder pisar mais na avenida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quando as minhas pernas não puderem aguentar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Levar meu corpo junto com meu samba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;O meu anel de bamba entrego a quem mereça usar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu vou ficar no meio do povo espiando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Minha escola perdendo ou ganhando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mais um carnaval&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Antes de me despedir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Deixo ao sambista mais novo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;O meu pedido final&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/7388661127643798955-7009037894825238355?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7009037894825238355/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7009037894825238355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7009037894825238355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7009037894825238355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/09/o-rio-continua-lindo.html' title='O RIO CONTINUA LINDO...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RtysnY5Zj9I/AAAAAAAAARU/cLaYxCXSH5g/s72-c/CIMG4192.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-2483216366216927644</id><published>2007-08-25T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T18:06:21.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O mundo fica beeeem mais divertido...!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não gosto de formalidade, beijinho do lado do outro, salto muito alto, vestido que não dá pra usar com sutiã, cabelo intocável, maquiagem arrumadíssima, banda que toca de tudo, lugar muito lotado... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mas aí, quando eu olhei pro lado e vi a felicidade da minha irmã, o sorriso do Victor e todo mundo dançando ao som de Balão Mágico, cantei alegremente mais uma canção... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;souuu feliz...!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102807538179084226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RtDQa45Zj8I/AAAAAAAAARM/S_-PZQFzepc/s400/Formatura+Victor+124.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Superfantástico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Superfantástico amigo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Que bom estar contigo No nosso balão! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Vamos voar novamente &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Cantar alegremente Mais uma canção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tantas crianças já sabem Que todas elas cabem &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No nosso balão &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Até quem tem mais idade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mas tem felicidade No seu coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sou feliz, por isso estou aqui &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Também quero viajar nesse balão!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Superfantástico!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No Balão Mágico, O mundo fica bem mais divertido!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sou feliz, por isso estou aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Também quero viajar nesse balão!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Superfantásticamente! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As músicas são asas da imaginação &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;É como a flor e a semente &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Cantar que faz a gente &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Viver a emoção &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vamos fazer a cidade &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Virar felicidade Com a nossa canção&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Vamos fazer essa gente &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Voar alegremente No nosso balão!&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/7388661127643798955-2483216366216927644?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/2483216366216927644/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=2483216366216927644&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2483216366216927644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2483216366216927644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/08/o-mundo-fica-beeeem-mais-divertido.html' title='O mundo fica beeeem mais divertido...!'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RtDQa45Zj8I/AAAAAAAAARM/S_-PZQFzepc/s72-c/Formatura+Victor+124.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-4914105267120215926</id><published>2007-08-22T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T16:52:40.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Quanto querer cabe em meu coração? "</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No meio do dia, parei pra respirar um pouco. E na minha cabeça cantarolei Djavan. Do nada. Simplesmente ele me veio e eu fiquei pensando nas perguntas da música dele. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quanto querer cabe em meu coração? Antes eu achava que cabia tanto, mas tanto, que quando era pequena, me deitava embaixo da estante de livros e chorava de noite, com medo de alguma coisa levar embora tudo que eu tinha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Agora já nem sei. Parece que a gente cresce e o espação se transforma em um espacinho, daqueles que cabe pouca gente, pouca coisa, pouca vida. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aí a gente fica assim, procurando coisas pra colocar dentro da gente que é pra dar a impressão que estamos cheios denovo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas nem estamos. Não de verdade.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101675217296134066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RszKlI5Zj7I/AAAAAAAAARE/wyeFvB_B9js/s200/P1190554.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[Photo: Preto no Branco]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Quanto querer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Cabe em meu coração ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Me faz sofrer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Faz que me mata, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;E se não mata fere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quando bem quer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Traz uma praga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;E me afaga a pele..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Crescei, luar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Prá iluminar as trevas" Djavan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-4914105267120215926?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/4914105267120215926/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=4914105267120215926&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4914105267120215926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4914105267120215926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/08/quanto-querer-cabe-em-meu-corao.html' title='&quot;Quanto querer cabe em meu coração? &quot;'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RszKlI5Zj7I/AAAAAAAAARE/wyeFvB_B9js/s72-c/P1190554.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1178289601386766788</id><published>2007-08-21T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T07:00:44.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Cansei!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rsrtz45Zj6I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/SfyeKbZT3wg/s1600-h/MagalhÃ£es.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101151003652755362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rsrtz45Zj6I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/SfyeKbZT3wg/s320/Magalh%C3%A3es.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; [Photo: "Fotoflagrei" o Magalhães dando uma conferida no material]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Durante todo esse "acontecido Zottolo", fiquei bem caladinha, só ouvindo o que as pessoas diziam. Com poucas exceções, não me manifestei sobre o assunto. Mas hoje deu vontade de falar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O Zottolo encontra-se na presidência há pouco tempo. Menos de um ano. Provavelmente não sabe dos projetos de educação que a empresa para qual ele trabalha faz por aqui. Além de distribuir livros, ela é responsável pela reforma de hospitais, doação de aparelhos hospitalares, e, o melhor de tudo, um projeto de educação que trabalha com a melhoria do ensino e atua em Teresina, Campo Maior, José de Freitas e Parnaíba. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Porque, na hora de falar sobre o Zottolo, ninguém arremata com alguma coisa que a Philips fez de bom? Gente, não se pode julgar uma multinacional inteira pelo comentário infeliz de uma pessoa ignorante. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se vamos reinvindicar alguma coisa, que sejam empregos, moradia, o que é nosso mesmo de direito. Vai deixar de comprar televisão? Pra que? Revolta? Não seria mais óbvio pedir a demissão do Zottolo, ao ivés do boicote da Philips?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E, aproveita que já está pedindo alguma coisa, pede pra demitirem o Renan, o Garotinho, o Collor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-1178289601386766788?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1178289601386766788/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1178289601386766788&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1178289601386766788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1178289601386766788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/08/cansei.html' title='&quot;Cansei!&quot;'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rsrtz45Zj6I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/SfyeKbZT3wg/s72-c/Magalh%C3%A3es.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3823972306796735816</id><published>2007-08-19T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T20:13:31.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Um nó só...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RskGGo5Zj5I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/m_-CiltXXPo/s1600-h/bia1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100614764100947858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RskGGo5Zj5I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/m_-CiltXXPo/s320/bia1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; [Photo: "quietismo estético"]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dias corridos mais do que o normal. Sério mesmo... pelos meus cálculos, dormi pouquíssimo estes dias. Além de ajudar com a festa da Michelle, final de semana no jornal, trabalho no Teresina é Pop, mamãe viajando, um só carro em casa e a confusão da Philips, minha cabeça anda um nó só.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E quando eu achei que minha vida tava uma enrolada, comecei a ler Fernando Pessoa. Se existe alguém mais pessimista, não conheço nem li ainda - nem Nietzche... Só de ler me bate uma tristeza, uma angústia. Vai ver que por isso o nome "Livro do Desassossego". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Pudesse ser toda a vida,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pensar todo o pensamento &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Então [...]"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;F. Pessoa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-3823972306796735816?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3823972306796735816/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3823972306796735816&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3823972306796735816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3823972306796735816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/08/um-n-s.html' title='Um nó só...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RskGGo5Zj5I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/m_-CiltXXPo/s72-c/bia1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1462522003198017673</id><published>2007-08-12T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T20:21:31.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiras da Vida ou Feliz Dia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rr8ubiTtSvI/AAAAAAAAAQk/t55uB_xqK90/s1600-h/familia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097844353807502066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rr8ubiTtSvI/AAAAAAAAAQk/t55uB_xqK90/s400/familia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"A gente tira tiras da vida,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E esquece que as coisas boas ficam..." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Biá Boakari&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje é um dia especial. Aniversário da minha irmãzinha mais linda de todo mundo e é Dia dos Pais. Por enquanto, ainda não tenho palavras que possam dizer o quanto ter este pessoal aí de cima perto de mim é importante. É essencial. É amor. É ajudar quando um precisa e o outro não. É acordar bem cedo pra levar pra escola. É ficar perguntando o que o outro tem até encher o saco. É ficar experimentando comida do prato um do outro no meio do restaurante chique. É ligar e se preocupar quando ninguém atende. É chegar em casa e saber que está tudo bem - e se não estiver, vai ficar. É amar. É pedir desculpas. É engolir o orgulho para não brigar. É ensinar. É aprender ainda mais. É chorar. É engolir e choro e ficar forte porque o outro está precisandoo mais. É sorrir. É sorrir quando não dá. É amor. É pra sempre. É apoiar tudo que o outro faz, mesmo sem concordar com tudo que o outro faz. É deixar aprender sozinho. É sofrer quando o outro sofre. É ficar feliz quando tudo dá certo. É se conformar em saber que até quando não é feliz, tem o outro por perto. É amor. É amar. É essencial. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Feliz níver Nibble, I just looooveeeee you.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Feliz dia dos pais Branny.. I'm missing you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Momma, "todo dia é dia de mãe".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-1462522003198017673?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1462522003198017673/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1462522003198017673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1462522003198017673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1462522003198017673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/08/tiras-da-vida-ou-feliz-dia.html' title='Tiras da Vida ou Feliz Dia'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rr8ubiTtSvI/AAAAAAAAAQk/t55uB_xqK90/s72-c/familia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-6253358310132415430</id><published>2007-08-11T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T21:18:47.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Geraldo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Show mais ou menos + Turma mais que animada + Conversa fiada &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;= Uma noite pra não esquecer... por um bom tempo!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097662552136829666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rr6JFSTtSuI/AAAAAAAAAQc/GC_u0Fh6VOI/s400/geraldo+azevedo+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;[Photo: Biá Boakari]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Rasgo de Lua:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Geraldo Azevedo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Olho para trás&lt;br /&gt;Não vejo nada, meu amor&lt;br /&gt;E vejo tudo&lt;br /&gt;Por aqui que sai do chão&lt;br /&gt;Rasgo de lua&lt;br /&gt;Brilha no seu rosto agora&lt;br /&gt;Com o som de lá de fora&lt;br /&gt;Dá vontade de viver&lt;br /&gt;Eu não quero resolver&lt;br /&gt;Eu não quero nem saber&lt;br /&gt;Daquela coisa morna&lt;br /&gt;Daquele laço firme&lt;br /&gt;Daquela falação&lt;br /&gt;Aquele monte de saber&lt;br /&gt;Só quero aquela luz&lt;br /&gt;Que vem do dia&lt;br /&gt;Transformando em energia&lt;br /&gt;Nosso ofício de fazer&lt;br /&gt;E viver a cantar ...&lt;br /&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/7388661127643798955-6253358310132415430?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/6253358310132415430/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=6253358310132415430&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6253358310132415430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6253358310132415430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/08/geraldo.html' title='Geraldo'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rr6JFSTtSuI/AAAAAAAAAQc/GC_u0Fh6VOI/s72-c/geraldo+azevedo+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3923882258492459132</id><published>2007-08-08T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T21:32:11.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>-- Pré-teen ---</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrqYcCTtStI/AAAAAAAAAQU/lkdq38qE13w/s1600-h/the-fall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096553535746427602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrqYcCTtStI/AAAAAAAAAQU/lkdq38qE13w/s200/the-fall.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;São quase 2h e eu ainda estou acordada. Nossa! Tô quase me sentindo pré-teen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;... Se não fossem as três matérias especiais que eu ainda preciso fazer, a entrevista de amanhã bem cedo, a multa que eu preciso pagar, a conta do cartão de crédito que pode chegar a qualquer momento, a vontade de comer chocolate com sorvete com pão de queijo com outra coisa que eu não sei bem o quê, as minhas costas que insistem em doer, a lista de afazeres que só aumenta, o meu cabelo que está ressecado... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ah, se não fosse isso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/7388661127643798955-3923882258492459132?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3923882258492459132/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3923882258492459132&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3923882258492459132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3923882258492459132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/08/pr-teen.html' title='-- Pré-teen ---'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrqYcCTtStI/AAAAAAAAAQU/lkdq38qE13w/s72-c/the-fall.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-6671531303073036779</id><published>2007-08-07T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T17:22:35.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>te amo muito mais... sempre...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrkMVyTtSsI/AAAAAAAAAQM/SstFGq6RSzI/s1600-h/familia.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096118021767645890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrkMVyTtSsI/AAAAAAAAAQM/SstFGq6RSzI/s200/familia.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E eu que dormi ao teu lado para velar teu sono, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;acabei tendo pesadelos a noite toda;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e quando pensei que estava tudo bem,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;vi luzes, sirenes, cones alaranjados e uma multidão;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e ao me descontrolar, de medo,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;senti pavor por não estar contigo;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e quando não conseguia dormir, mesmo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;morrendo de sono,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;não parei de agradecer por tudo estar bem;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e até quando a gente sentou na cama e riu,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;aqui dentro os pensamentos ainda eram tristes;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e então, eu que sabia que te amava,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;vi que te amo muito mais...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sempre...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;............................segurando o choro e agradecendo ao Thiago (estudante de medicina), Murillo Fortes, Thaty, Ricardinho (tô me apegando) e Manuks por me darem a mão quando eu caí, sem forças, na parede daquele lugar horrível.................................&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/7388661127643798955-6671531303073036779?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/6671531303073036779/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=6671531303073036779&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6671531303073036779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6671531303073036779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/08/te-amo-muito-mais-sempre.html' title='te amo muito mais... sempre...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrkMVyTtSsI/AAAAAAAAAQM/SstFGq6RSzI/s72-c/familia.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-919953502553675974</id><published>2007-08-03T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T22:20:12.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Felizes Para Sempre...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrQL2CTtSrI/AAAAAAAAAQE/3_77FFeyojc/s1600-h/tyrytsryy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094710101423246002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrQL2CTtSrI/AAAAAAAAAQE/3_77FFeyojc/s320/tyrytsryy.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando a porta fechar, ela finalmente vai perceber que ele foi embora. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não, eles decidiram que não haveria despedidas, abraços finais nem tentativas de reeconciliação de última hora. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ela, sentada no sofá com a televisão ligada, uma revista no colo, e ele andando, carregando uma caixa velha na mão e arrastando a mala que levou quando decidiram morar juntos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ele dava passos lentos, como se tentasse absorver os últimos segundos lá dentro. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Era difícil ir embora assim, sem ao menos dizer tchau - mas isso ele já sabia. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por dentro, o coração dela estava partido. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por fora, o programa de sábado a tarde na televisão era um daqueles filmes de ação.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Antes de sair, eles se entreolharam por um último segundo, e já não eram mais como antes. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ele já não a fazia rir, e ela já não ria mais.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E assim, como combinado, simplesmente sem adeus, ele fechou a porta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem felizes, muito menos para sempre.&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/7388661127643798955-919953502553675974?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/919953502553675974/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=919953502553675974&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/919953502553675974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/919953502553675974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/08/felizes-para-sempre.html' title='Felizes Para Sempre...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrQL2CTtSrI/AAAAAAAAAQE/3_77FFeyojc/s72-c/tyrytsryy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1699314907907081628</id><published>2007-08-01T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T19:56:41.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Além...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrFHRiTtSoI/AAAAAAAAAPs/bBLbQ7Ev2eA/s1600-h/jornal4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093931020125555330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrFHRiTtSoI/AAAAAAAAAPs/bBLbQ7Ev2eA/s200/jornal4.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[Foto: Quando a redação vai ao cachorro-quente do Braga]&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;"isso de querer ser &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;exatamente aquilo que a gente é &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;ainda vai nos levar além" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;:Leminski&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-1699314907907081628?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1699314907907081628/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1699314907907081628&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1699314907907081628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1699314907907081628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/08/alm.html' title='Além...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RrFHRiTtSoI/AAAAAAAAAPs/bBLbQ7Ev2eA/s72-c/jornal4.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-8465022169768842144</id><published>2007-07-31T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T14:22:53.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Parece nome de um filme" Yatta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rq-nkyTtSjI/AAAAAAAAAPE/l8IBmCXNo68/s1600-h/alice+in+wonderland.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093473954000882226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rq-nkyTtSjI/AAAAAAAAAPE/l8IBmCXNo68/s320/alice+in+wonderland.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; [Image: Alice in Wonderland/Raquel Aparício]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saudades do tempo que a gente tinha certeza que sabia de tudo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e era tão feliz ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"God damn, my spinning head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Decisions that made my bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now I must lay in it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And deal with things I left unsaid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I want to dive into you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Forget what you're going through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I get behind, make your move&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Forget about the truth"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Maroon Five&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;....................assistindo Saw III com a Yatta e Francis (freaks!!) ............&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/7388661127643798955-8465022169768842144?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/8465022169768842144/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=8465022169768842144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8465022169768842144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8465022169768842144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/parece-nome-de-um-filme-yatta.html' title='&quot;Parece nome de um filme&quot; Yatta'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rq-nkyTtSjI/AAAAAAAAAPE/l8IBmCXNo68/s72-c/alice+in+wonderland.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-6841408653814023040</id><published>2007-07-28T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T22:41:31.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Em casa [no sábado!!!]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Pleno sábado a noite e eu em casa, estatelada na rede, assistindo nada menos do que Cinderella III. Dor de cabeça infernal, um advil e carinhos da mamãe, sanduichãoo e batata frita, "a menina que roubava livros", uma barrinha sem graça de chocolate, conversas no msn, um pouquinho de Clarice Lispector. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nossa... lembro quando o final de semana era sinônimo de curtição... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Juro... nem faz tanto tempo assim... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092487898229197346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="227" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqwmwyTtSiI/AAAAAAAAAO8/thoAcojMidE/s400/cinderella2.jpg" width="338" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Não é que vivo em eterna mutação, com novas adaptações a meu renovado viver e nunca chego ao fim de cada um dos modos de existir. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vivo de esboços não acabados e vacilantes. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas equilibro-me como posso, entre mim e eu, entre mim e os homens, entre mim e o Deus." C. Lispector&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;.........................incrivelmente adorando a facilidade do "ficar em casa"..................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-6841408653814023040?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/6841408653814023040/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=6841408653814023040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6841408653814023040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6841408653814023040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/em-casa-no-sbado.html' title='Em casa [no sábado!!!]'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqwmwyTtSiI/AAAAAAAAAO8/thoAcojMidE/s72-c/cinderella2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1583600037082911841</id><published>2007-07-26T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T19:39:46.988-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pobre menina rica...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqlZBSTtShI/AAAAAAAAAO0/h8yt7drb7gs/s1600-h/kurtheart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091698732348295698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqlZBSTtShI/AAAAAAAAAO0/h8yt7drb7gs/s200/kurtheart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Enquanto ele lia, o coração dela parou. E, foi assim que, em poucos segundos, ela voltou a ter 7 anos de idade, quando ficava sentada na mesa de almoço, procurando alguma coisa inteligente para falar. Só para ver se ele notava.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Isso... essa é mais um drama de uma pobre menina rica. Sabe, aquelas que você lê e manda ir catar coquinho, porque se ela não tinha amor em casa, pelo menos tinha uma casa pra dormir e comida pra comer. E o pior é que esta pobre menina rica até amor em casa tinha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Muita coisa em sua vida muda - o tempo todo - mas existem coisas que simplesmente permanecem inalteradas. Uma delas é a maneira como seus pais vêem as coisas que faz. Para a mãe, tudo é lindo, ela é a meninazinha mais bonita e inteligente do mundo. Paro o pai, sempre ela poderia estar fazendo melhor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ele leu o texto, um dos poucos que ela fez e realmente gostou. E ela lá, calada. Nem tem certeza se respirava direito. Enquanto isso, a mãe chega em casa e, já da porta, grita que "amou" - verdade imutável. Ele, continua a ler.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando acabou, esperou até que ela perguntasse o que ele tinha achado. "Gostei menina, dessa vez você colocou sua opinião. Deveria fazer mais isso". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E, foi assim que a menina de 7 anos levantou da mesa do almoço, sem falar nada, mas com a certeza de que era amada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e muito amada.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;.............already missing our smoke breaks...........................&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/7388661127643798955-1583600037082911841?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1583600037082911841/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1583600037082911841&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1583600037082911841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1583600037082911841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/pobre-menina-rica.html' title='pobre menina rica...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqlZBSTtShI/AAAAAAAAAO0/h8yt7drb7gs/s72-c/kurtheart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3678954161643412184</id><published>2007-07-24T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T17:57:01.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Não sabe??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqafbyTtSgI/AAAAAAAAAOs/_cV-Spc_gGA/s1600-h/Piau%C3%AD+Pop+004-diminuida.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090931728498641410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqafbyTtSgI/AAAAAAAAAOs/_cV-Spc_gGA/s320/Piau%C3%AD+Pop+004-diminuida.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; [&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Foto: "Se ele dança, eu danço, ainda mais se for no Pi Pop...]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O trabalho dignifica o homem, a espera torna-o mais humilde. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas, sinceramente, cansei de ficar aqui pacientemente esperando alguma coisa acontecer, e &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;essa vida acomodada começa a me fazer mal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me sufoca, e aos poucos vou deixando de ser mais eu para ser outra pessoa. E essa pessoa eu não conheço. Me vejo de relance ao passar por vitrines espelhadas e não me reconheço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Será que eu era assim antes e nem sabia? Ou será que depois vou descobrir que o reflexo era de outra que aparecia sorrateira, sem que eu percebesse?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Às vezes a gente se perde entre tantas besteiras, tantas coisinhas pequenas do dia-a-dia, sofre e fica remoendo problemas; se enrosca nas trivialidades tolas do que poderia ser só uma brisa que passa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Porque, no fim, a gente sabe que passa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não sabe?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-3678954161643412184?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3678954161643412184/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3678954161643412184&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3678954161643412184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3678954161643412184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/no-sabe.html' title='Não sabe??'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqafbyTtSgI/AAAAAAAAAOs/_cV-Spc_gGA/s72-c/Piau%C3%AD+Pop+004-diminuida.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5819054829740353613</id><published>2007-07-23T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T19:06:09.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brincadeira de mal gosto...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqVdeSTtSfI/AAAAAAAAAOk/9dQgrRMYkD4/s1600-h/P1180152.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090577728704170482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqVdeSTtSfI/AAAAAAAAAOk/9dQgrRMYkD4/s320/P1180152.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;[ Photo by Rigoberto: "couldn't look you in the eye..."]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A gente costumava brincar e dizer que as pessoas que tinham medo de andar de avião não sabiam que as estatísticas provavam que era muito mais seguro voar do que pegar a estrada. Hoje, já não sei mais. A brincadeira ficou sem graça.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E então, quando tudo voltar a ser como era antes, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;me acordem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-5819054829740353613?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5819054829740353613/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5819054829740353613&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5819054829740353613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5819054829740353613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/brincadeira-de-mal-gosto.html' title='Brincadeira de mal gosto...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RqVdeSTtSfI/AAAAAAAAAOk/9dQgrRMYkD4/s72-c/P1180152.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7360337983339675262</id><published>2007-07-19T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T16:48:44.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Muro das lamentações</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu estava aqui, lamentando minha vida, achando tudo uma droga. Aí, de repente, a Globo coloca as famílias das vítimas da TAM na tela. Fala sério! Bateu uma de Pollyana total!! Como é que eu posso me encostar no meu muro das lamentações quando, na verdade, até agora, meus problemas são todos passáveis/passageiros/sobrevivíveis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089058795298467410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rp_4AubXrlI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/4B60yBO784o/s320/unhas+2.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Photo: [red, red wine....]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E eu sei, que o sofrimento dos outros não diminui o meu. Nem deixa meus problemas menores. Mas, com certeza, me fez parar por uns minutos de sofrer por mim. E pensar nos outros. Por pelo menos um tempinho.&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/7388661127643798955-7360337983339675262?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7360337983339675262/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7360337983339675262&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7360337983339675262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7360337983339675262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/muro-das-lamentaes.html' title='Muro das lamentações'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rp_4AubXrlI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/4B60yBO784o/s72-c/unhas+2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3816716310730207114</id><published>2007-07-17T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T18:06:12.901-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saldo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rp1nKObXrkI/AAAAAAAAAOI/2Mob-Faoan4/s1600-h/bia+e+mu1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088336579367775810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rp1nKObXrkI/AAAAAAAAAOI/2Mob-Faoan4/s320/bia+e+mu1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; Photo: [Porque deveriam ensinar sinuca nas escolas]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A minha vidinha hoje, às 22h02:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lendo 3 livros (o do Abílio Diniz/ A Menina que Roubava Livros/ A Hora da Estrela)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Terminando de ler 1 revista literária (Piauí)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Com cinco matérias para fazer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Precisando tirar fotos de travestis na avenida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Com fome de sushi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dormindo em um apartamento com 1o pessoas e um cachorro neurótico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Com desejo de comer chocolate meio-amargo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Precisando fazer as unhas, me depilar e tirar a sobrancelha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Preocupada com as várias entrevistas que terei que fazer/marcar/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;implorar/rezar para darem certo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E cansada, mas muito feliz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-3816716310730207114?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3816716310730207114/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3816716310730207114&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3816716310730207114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3816716310730207114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/saldo.html' title='Saldo'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rp1nKObXrkI/AAAAAAAAAOI/2Mob-Faoan4/s72-c/bia+e+mu1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7453720734911808595</id><published>2007-07-14T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T12:11:55.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>{...Olhos de amor...}</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desde cedo, ele tentou ensinar a lição que mais havia influenciado sua vida: você pode ser tudo que quiser. Entre sermões, reclamações e críticas, era este o conselho que ele sempre dava.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, foi assim que, por muito tempo, aprendi a trocar as brincadeiras na rua por livros dentro de casa; saídas por noites em claro estudando; amigos de bar por colegas de trabalho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087132055789612594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpkfpubXrjI/AAAAAAAAAOA/uL9alD-GgSc/s320/CIMG3810.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foi o estudo que o tirou de sua pequena aldeia no oeste africano e o jogou, anos depois, em uma sala de aula americana. Foi sua persistência que fez com que ele aprendesse não só a ler e a escrever em português (uma das línguas mais difíceis), mas compor textos e artigos publicados. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foi sua coragem que transformou a vida de todos nós, quando, ao receber uma proposta de emprego em outro país, decidiu ir levando todo mundo. Ainda mais coragem ele teve ao decidir ficar – sozinho, enquanto todas nós voltamos para casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando penso em tudo que sou hoje, sei que devo muito ao que ele me ensinou. Devo muito ao que seus pais o ensinaram. Devo muito às lágrimas que chorei depois de cada discussão que tivemos.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Acho que agora entendo que ele me via pelos seus olhos e eu, me via pelos meus... hoje, aprendemos a nos ver, desta vez, simplesmente com amor. muito amor.&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/7388661127643798955-7453720734911808595?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7453720734911808595/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7453720734911808595&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7453720734911808595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7453720734911808595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/olhos-de-amor.html' title='{...Olhos de amor...}'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpkfpubXrjI/AAAAAAAAAOA/uL9alD-GgSc/s72-c/CIMG3810.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-6014280295844849463</id><published>2007-07-12T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T14:13:42.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Há Vida: Feliz aniversário Mu!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpaUEubXriI/AAAAAAAAAN4/35PF31Tq_uI/s1600-h/Rio+de+Janeiro+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas há a Vida&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;: Clarice Lispector&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas há a vida &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;que é para ser intensamente vivida, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;há o amor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que tem que ser vivido até a última gota&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sem nenhum medo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não mata.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086415638064770594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpaUEubXriI/AAAAAAAAAN4/35PF31Tq_uI/s320/Rio+de+Janeiro+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.... porque hoje é o aniversário dele. dele que eu amo, que eu venero, que eu adoro, que eu agradeço a Deus todo dia por ter colocado no meu caminho, que eu simplesmente não consigo mais viver sem, que eu preciso falar todo dia, que eu quero saber notícias, que eu preciso pra desabafar, que eu preciso pra ir no centro comigo, que eu preciso pra me ajudar a lembrar das coisas que eu compro, que faz parte do nosso casal de três, que tem a mesma blusa que eu, que eu preciso pra me ajudar a escolher o que vou usar, que me ajuda sempre, que está comigo, que existe. e só por isso, eu amo. amo.......&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-6014280295844849463?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/6014280295844849463/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=6014280295844849463&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6014280295844849463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6014280295844849463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/h-vida-feliz-aniversrio-mu.html' title='Há Vida: Feliz aniversário Mu!'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpaUEubXriI/AAAAAAAAAN4/35PF31Tq_uI/s72-c/Rio+de+Janeiro+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-2632022002487004998</id><published>2007-07-11T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T13:38:26.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Esperando, enfim...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpaRD-bXrhI/AAAAAAAAANw/n-JJppCYg1g/s1600-h/tattoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086412326644985362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpaRD-bXrhI/AAAAAAAAANw/n-JJppCYg1g/s200/tattoo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Vou ficar aqui, caladinha, sentada no canto da cama, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;só esperando o tempo passar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Contando quantos minutos faltam pro dia acabar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;somando as horas do dia pra semana terminar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e assim, só assim, quem sabe,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;eu posso sentir que finalmente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o tempo passou e eu continei aqui,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;caladinha, sentada no canto da cama,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;só esperando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&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/7388661127643798955-2632022002487004998?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/2632022002487004998/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=2632022002487004998&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2632022002487004998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2632022002487004998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/esperando-enfim.html' title='Esperando, enfim...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpaRD-bXrhI/AAAAAAAAANw/n-JJppCYg1g/s72-c/tattoo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1242304876759854714</id><published>2007-07-09T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T15:18:25.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pi Pop 2007 - Cada Pulo, Uum Flash!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKzcuekYdI/AAAAAAAAANo/hdeQx0y_vco/s1600-h/bia+e+yatta.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085324235348664786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKzcuekYdI/AAAAAAAAANo/hdeQx0y_vco/s200/bia+e+yatta.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKxE-ekYXI/AAAAAAAAAM4/U8joYBYtSG8/s1600-h/mari+e+pedro.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085321628303516018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKxE-ekYXI/AAAAAAAAAM4/U8joYBYtSG8/s200/mari+e+pedro.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKxE-ekYYI/AAAAAAAAANA/K4xcHvgeAvo/s1600-h/alti+blog1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085321628303516034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKxE-ekYYI/AAAAAAAAANA/K4xcHvgeAvo/s200/alti+blog1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKxFOekYZI/AAAAAAAAANI/OZK4GfbvI6s/s1600-h/alti+blog2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085321632598483346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKxFOekYZI/AAAAAAAAANI/OZK4GfbvI6s/s200/alti+blog2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKxFOekYaI/AAAAAAAAANQ/uHEoyrc2h0Q/s1600-h/alti+blog4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085321632598483362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKxFOekYaI/AAAAAAAAANQ/uHEoyrc2h0Q/s200/alti+blog4.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKxFeekYbI/AAAAAAAAANY/z5O78rshgow/s1600-h/bia+e+gorda.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085321636893450674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKxFeekYbI/AAAAAAAAANY/z5O78rshgow/s200/bia+e+gorda.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKtMuekYVI/AAAAAAAAAMo/-PdCTRQBEag/s1600-h/karranka+blog6.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085317363400991058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKtMuekYVI/AAAAAAAAAMo/-PdCTRQBEag/s200/karranka+blog6.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKtMuekYWI/AAAAAAAAAMw/IDh5AdF5jqE/s1600-h/karranka+blog7.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085317363400991074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKtMuekYWI/AAAAAAAAAMw/IDh5AdF5jqE/s200/karranka+blog7.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKsceekYQI/AAAAAAAAAMA/9P1EqFORu_I/s1600-h/karranka+blog1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085316534472302850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKsceekYQI/AAAAAAAAAMA/9P1EqFORu_I/s200/karranka+blog1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085316534472302866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKsceekYRI/AAAAAAAAAMI/IHyTtqSHZ0Y/s200/karranka+blog2.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085316538767270194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKscuekYTI/AAAAAAAAAMY/s6i-kriZzIA/s200/karranka+blog4.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKqbeekYMI/AAAAAAAAALg/zYec9XD71QQ/s1600-h/luxuria+blog1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085314318269178050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKqbeekYMI/AAAAAAAAALg/zYec9XD71QQ/s200/luxuria+blog1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKqbuekYNI/AAAAAAAAALo/4ongdRmbQxQ/s1600-h/luxuria+blog2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085314322564145362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKqbuekYNI/AAAAAAAAALo/4ongdRmbQxQ/s200/luxuria+blog2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKqb-ekYPI/AAAAAAAAAL4/4LU6faaHsyA/s1600-h/luxuria+blog4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085314326859112690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKqb-ekYPI/AAAAAAAAAL4/4LU6faaHsyA/s200/luxuria+blog4.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKp8-ekYHI/AAAAAAAAAK4/vZuNwn1migo/s1600-h/vali+blog1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085313794283167858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKp8-ekYHI/AAAAAAAAAK4/vZuNwn1migo/s200/vali+blog1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKp9OekYII/AAAAAAAAALA/S62kgv0wYG8/s1600-h/vali+blog2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085313798578135170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKp9OekYII/AAAAAAAAALA/S62kgv0wYG8/s200/vali+blog2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKp9OekYJI/AAAAAAAAALI/yiBBHPvHRZU/s1600-h/alicia+e+eu.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085313798578135186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKp9OekYJI/AAAAAAAAALI/yiBBHPvHRZU/s200/alicia+e+eu.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKp9eekYLI/AAAAAAAAALY/Dzfgii-UtD0/s1600-h/n%C3%B3s.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085313802873102514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKp9eekYLI/AAAAAAAAALY/Dzfgii-UtD0/s200/n%C3%B3s.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKzceekYcI/AAAAAAAAANg/DiA5Mt9xYIg/s1600-h/Piau%C3%AD+Pop+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085324231053697474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKzceekYcI/AAAAAAAAANg/DiA5Mt9xYIg/s200/Piau%C3%AD+Pop+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/7388661127643798955-1242304876759854714?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1242304876759854714/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1242304876759854714&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1242304876759854714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1242304876759854714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/pi-pop-2007-cada-pulo-uum-flash.html' title='Pi Pop 2007 - Cada Pulo, Uum Flash!'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RpKzcuekYdI/AAAAAAAAANo/hdeQx0y_vco/s72-c/bia+e+yatta.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-734652474282409374</id><published>2007-07-09T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T05:57:20.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E Fim.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RohlceekYCI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/JsJQp2ypMYc/s1600-h/CIMG1943.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082423719379623970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RohlceekYCI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/JsJQp2ypMYc/s200/CIMG1943.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ela sabia que eles iriam se encontrar. Num dia desses, pelas ruas, em algum desses bares da vida... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;com certeza a maquiagem que ela estava usando já estaria transformada em uma máscara de filme de terror, e ele estaria lindo como sempre. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;ela estaria triste, tomando aquela última cerveja só por obrigação; ele iria estar sentado numa mesa cheio de amigos, todos rindo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;ela usaria aquela roupa bem feinha, que já nem cabe mais direito; ele estaria vestindo aquela blusa verde linda (que ela deu, claro!). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;ela iria pensar em falar com ele, passando o diálogo na cabeça pelo menos 100 vezes; ele olharia pra ela de relance e nem se tocar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;ela iria passar pela mesa dele pra ver se ele pelo menos cumprimentava; ele via que tinha passado pra fazer alguma coisa, mas nem virou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;ela iria se arrepender de gostar dele; ele nem ia lembrar que um dia prometeu amar tudo que viesse dela.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;ela iria levantar, entrar no carro, ligar o rádio e ir embora; ele continuaria lá.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;ela chegaria em casa e choraria, toda tristeza do mundo sobre os ombros; ele continuaria lá.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;ela veria, alguns meses depois, que o novo pretê é muito mais simpático do que ele; ele continuaria lá.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;ela finalmente iria desencanar, levar o pretê (que agora já era ficante) a sério; ele iria perceber que ela era a mulher da vida dele...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;mas, hoje, ele não era mais o Homem da dela...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;E Fim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;"The world still is the same, you never change it,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;As sure as the stars shine above; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;You're nobody 'til somebody loves you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;So find yourself somebody, find yourself somebody, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Find yourself somebody to love"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;.... pensando seriamente, mas seriamente mesmo em jogar tudo pra cima! .....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-734652474282409374?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/734652474282409374/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=734652474282409374&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/734652474282409374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/734652474282409374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/e-fim.html' title='E Fim.'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RohlceekYCI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/JsJQp2ypMYc/s72-c/CIMG1943.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7222656322962351178</id><published>2007-07-04T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T19:17:06.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What if...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Shakespeare said "Journeys end in lovers meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said "love is blind". Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. Its called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083530833099513954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoxUW-ekYGI/AAAAAAAAAKw/Y9VaK_wRZZ4/s200/Shoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;" &lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Holidays&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;......porque amo esse filme, as lições que se escondem entre ironias que são ditas.........&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-7222656322962351178?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7222656322962351178/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7222656322962351178&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7222656322962351178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7222656322962351178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/what-if.html' title='What if...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoxUW-ekYGI/AAAAAAAAAKw/Y9VaK_wRZZ4/s72-c/Shoes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-4975453550881266535</id><published>2007-07-02T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T14:48:08.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bem feliz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RolyUOekYFI/AAAAAAAAAKo/TXGzpgpI8TI/s1600-h/butterfly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082719346273574994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RolyUOekYFI/AAAAAAAAAKo/TXGzpgpI8TI/s320/butterfly.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rolw5uekYEI/AAAAAAAAAKg/2jt5LM45aX8/s1600-h/butterfly.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Estou apaixonadazinha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Nem consigo olhar pra ele, de tão boba que fico. Sabe aquela coisa bem de menina, que dá borboletas no estômago e você nem consegue parar de rir?? aquela risada bem besta, que tem até mão na boca e tudo? pois é... toda vez que eu o vejo fico assim. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;bem tolinha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; bem feliz.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas aí, como eu adoro uma paixão platônica, ele nem vai saber. e nem vai saber de mim. ele nem me conhece. mas eu gosto assim, de deixar as borboletas voarem sem me preocupar se ele vai me achar feia, gorda, se vai reparar na espinha que acabou de aparecer no canto da minha boca... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vivo dizendo que sou impaquerável. e sou mesmo. não gosto daquelas conversinhas pra encher silêncio, daquelas amenidades sobre o tempo, das coisas que a gente fala porque não tem coragem de dizer o que está pensando. &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sou mesmo impaquerável, insuportável, extremamente sincera. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;não gosto daquela coisa de sair procurando alguém por aí, tentar descobrir pra onde ele vai. se ele chegou só. sou impaquerável. muito impaquerável.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;por isso vou continuar aqui. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;cheia de borboletas fazendo mil trilhas no meu estômago e rindo à toa. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;bem tola.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;bem feliz.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/7388661127643798955-4975453550881266535?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/4975453550881266535/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=4975453550881266535&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4975453550881266535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4975453550881266535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/07/bem-feliz.html' title='Bem feliz'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RolyUOekYFI/AAAAAAAAAKo/TXGzpgpI8TI/s72-c/butterfly.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-345033978137181987</id><published>2007-06-28T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T19:08:56.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E a gente que pensa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoQ0QeekYBI/AAAAAAAAAKI/gl4HxiHphs8/s1600-h/papel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081243737244590098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoQ0QeekYBI/AAAAAAAAAKI/gl4HxiHphs8/s200/papel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Só pra pensar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;muito...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Quando a gente pensa que sabe todas as respostas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vem a vida e muda todas as perguntas" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-345033978137181987?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/345033978137181987/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=345033978137181987&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/345033978137181987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/345033978137181987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/e-gente-que-pensa.html' title='E a gente que pensa'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoQ0QeekYBI/AAAAAAAAAKI/gl4HxiHphs8/s72-c/papel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3686645517893610032</id><published>2007-06-28T13:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T14:08:12.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Não se afobe não, que nada é pra já...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando eu era pequena, a gente viajava muito de carro. Acordava de madrugada, se enfiava no banco de trás carregando uma caixa de fitas e dormia ouvindo Xuxa e afins até chegar ao nosso destino. De vez em quando, entre um cochilo e outro, a voz que enchia nossos ouvidos não era a de ninguém conhecido. Hoje, eu sei que amo Chico Buarque, Milton Nascimento, Elis Regina e um montão de outros nomes por isso - por que entre um cochilo e outro, a Xuxa parava de gritar e dava espaço para a simplicidade e beleza dessas vozes que ficarão comigo pra sempre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081224727719337986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoQi9-ekYAI/AAAAAAAAAKA/FhBdpiDSjNc/s200/kurt+espelho.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;P.S.: Sabe aquela entrevista que eu disse que tinha sido legal? Pois é... não vai ser publicada. O editor que ia publica-la achou que "não era o tipo de material para os leitores dele". Isso... não, nem estou chateada. Achei super legal a sinceridade dele. Achei simpático ele me dizer isso. Mas, no fundo, meu orgulho ficou um tikim abalado. Aquela coisa de "parir" uma matéria que você achou legal, que você achou interessante, e ela ser recusada dói um pouquinho. Mas passa. Passa. Passou!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-3686645517893610032?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3686645517893610032/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3686645517893610032&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3686645517893610032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3686645517893610032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/no-se-afobe-no-que-nada-pra-j.html' title='Não se afobe não, que nada é pra já...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoQi9-ekYAI/AAAAAAAAAKA/FhBdpiDSjNc/s72-c/kurt+espelho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-6355211152635339593</id><published>2007-06-27T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T19:38:26.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O mundo pede</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje assisti Song &amp; Lyrics. É um daqueles filmes bem bobos, bem bons, que dá vontade de ficar cantando a música do final. Às vezes, como o Lenine já disse, tudo pede um pouco mais de calma. Pedi e recebi: um dia tranqüilo, notícias do meu pai, tempo com a minha irmã, meu sorvete predileto, falar com as pessoas que eu amo, comer chocolate (mas não ficar descontrolada), dormir bem, acordar um pouquinho mais tarde... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Enquanto o tempo acelera e pede pressa, Eu me recuso faço hora vou na valsa, A vida é tão rara..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BZ6rHxHHeQs"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BZ6rHxHHeQs" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-6355211152635339593?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/6355211152635339593/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=6355211152635339593&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6355211152635339593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6355211152635339593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/o-mundo-pede.html' title='O mundo pede'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1892345144717092815</id><published>2007-06-26T17:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T06:38:46.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>entre pontos.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoGv_OekX_I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/7-5uQ4S-zQw/s1600-h/raquel+aparicio3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080535355403558898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoGv_OekX_I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/7-5uQ4S-zQw/s400/raquel+aparicio3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;cansaço.noites mal dormidas.horário desregulado.coisas que eu queria (devia) ter feito.sorrisos sinceros. sorrisos amarelos.saudades.trabalho.novela.chocolate meio amargo.chocolate de castanha.pipoca.revistas de moda.matéria sobre "o corpo perfeito".mais trabalho.entrevista legal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it because you're not really looking. You don't really want to know the secret... You want to be fooled" &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;The Prestige/O Grande Truque&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/7388661127643798955-1892345144717092815?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1892345144717092815/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1892345144717092815&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1892345144717092815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1892345144717092815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/entre-pontos.html' title='entre pontos.'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoGv_OekX_I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/7-5uQ4S-zQw/s72-c/raquel+aparicio3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5731455404766604800</id><published>2007-06-25T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T22:05:35.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A lua e ela...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoCePWT8ECI/AAAAAAAAAJw/kZ29t2XjNL0/s1600-h/DSC03983.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080234366198353954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoCePWT8ECI/AAAAAAAAAJw/kZ29t2XjNL0/s320/DSC03983.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;[Foto: "chove chuva. chove sem parar"]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;De noite ela não conseguia dormir. Olhava para o céu, a meia lua talhando delicadamente o azul-chumbo. Tão forte e ao mesmo tempo, tão frágil. Ficou na ponta do pé e, da sacada, tentou puxar naquela pontinha que sempre fica mais perto da gente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ainda assim, era muito longe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tentou outra vez, e, dessa , com as asas que criou, tentou chegar até lá&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Até hoje tentam entender o porquê, daquela menina que parecia ser tão feliz, sumir assim, da noite pro dia. Sem explicação, sem bilhetes nem declarações. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Alguns dizem que ela continua bem ali, procurando alcançar a lua. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-5731455404766604800?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5731455404766604800/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5731455404766604800&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5731455404766604800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5731455404766604800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/lua-e-ela.html' title='A lua e ela...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RoCePWT8ECI/AAAAAAAAAJw/kZ29t2XjNL0/s72-c/DSC03983.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5914315372041124881</id><published>2007-06-23T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T15:35:08.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ser brega é chique!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rn2frGT8EBI/AAAAAAAAAJo/DU9Rx3w640o/s1600-h/bi.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079391517521219602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rn2frGT8EBI/AAAAAAAAAJo/DU9Rx3w640o/s400/bi.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje eu quero sair pra dançar, comer paçoca e uva caramelada;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;dançar muito, ser bem brega, sabe? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Estou começando a achar que ser brega é estado de espírito, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e, a definição de breguice, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;foi inventada por quem não é lá muito feliz... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Olha pro céu meu amor, veja como ele está lindo..."&lt;/em&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/7388661127643798955-5914315372041124881?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5914315372041124881/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5914315372041124881&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5914315372041124881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5914315372041124881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/ser-brega-chique.html' title='Ser brega é chique!'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rn2frGT8EBI/AAAAAAAAAJo/DU9Rx3w640o/s72-c/bi.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5203301618273249137</id><published>2007-06-22T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T15:35:26.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ela adora aparecer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnxNdGT8EAI/AAAAAAAAAJg/IRdEvrHUMZM/s1600-h/DSC01603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079019642072862722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnxNdGT8EAI/AAAAAAAAAJg/IRdEvrHUMZM/s320/DSC01603.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Adoro músicas novas, adoro descobrir músicas novas (mesmo que todo mundo já tenha ouvido antes)... esta é a mais recente.. ELA É, da Validuaté... gente, quem não conhece precisa ouvir... muito boa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ela É :Validuaté&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Composição: &lt;em&gt;José Quaresma &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Lá vem ela, já se ouve seu perfume despertar nos falares tácteis maliciosa lábia,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;salientes manifestações...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ela finge nem ligar, mas todo mundo sabe que ela gosta e faz questão de acender o fogo alheio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;e some sem grandes preocupações&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Se ela passa, logo capta toda atenção pra si&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A sua aparição invade todo o ambiente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;E nem um ser sequer ousa andar pela calçada da indiferença&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pra quê tanta lindeza num ser só?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Não sei, mas assim o mundo fica pior&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Isso ainda vai dar um dia motivo pra um manifesto contra a má distribuição da beleza!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ela só que ser! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;mas o pior é que ela é!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lá vai ela. já se vê uma saudade perturbar e nos olhares taciturnos o principiar de confabulações.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sei que ela vai voltar, porque ela adora aparecer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;e a cada nova aparição renova minha desilusão de absorvê-la em suas proporções&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quando ela some deixa o ar impregnado de toda sorte de desejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A sua presença não permite outro assunto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;E a sua ausência, por seu turno, teima em não mudar o tom da prosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pra quê tanta lindeza num ser só?&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/7388661127643798955-5203301618273249137?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5203301618273249137/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5203301618273249137&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5203301618273249137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5203301618273249137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/ela-adora-aparecer.html' title='Ela adora aparecer'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnxNdGT8EAI/AAAAAAAAAJg/IRdEvrHUMZM/s72-c/DSC01603.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7708229037305133161</id><published>2007-06-18T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T07:31:16.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A mesmice me agrada...assim como o frio!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077977790381035506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RniZ5WT8D_I/AAAAAAAAAJY/vDYLD5sRN4k/s320/bia+frio+copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hoje no almoço (hum...sushi do Teresina Shopping.. mtoooooo boooomm!!) as meninas disseram que roupa de frio era muito chique. Discordei. E agora, para provar, as fotos....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A Lorão, que é chique até na hora de dormir, e eu, que sou bagunçada até quando estou arrumada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Mas, enfim, o post não é só sobre roupas não... podia ser, mas estou afim de falar mais sobre amenidades: o tempo, a ausência dele, as coisas que deviam acontecer e não acontecem, as coisas que a gente espera que aconteçam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;No almoço, conversamos sobre como as coisas parecem paradas no tempo. "todo dia ela faz tudo sempre igual"... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;fiquei pensando que, talvez, na verdade estamos esperando alguma coisa chegar e transformar nossa vida. a gente se acomoda. acha que já fez tudo que podia, que a vida é isto aqui e pronto. sou uma acomodada conformada. eu gosto da mesmice, do dia-a-dia repetido, de conversar com as mesmas pessoas sobre as mesmas pessoas. eu gosto de almoçar frango todo dia. gosto do mesmo sabonete da Natura há anos. da blusa mais rasgada e velha do guarda-roupa. gosto de sair de casa e me perder sabendo que estou fadada a me encontrar. gosta daquele camisolão com os bolsos do lado (pra guardar comidinhas). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;não sei se é bom ou ruim, mas por enquanto eu estou assim... sendo feliz, e acho que, por enquanto, tá valendo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;eu entendo que é chato. a mesmice cansa, mas como diz uma Lorão acolá, "quando eu penso em ficar triste, não dá. olha o tanto de coisas que eu tenho". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;eu tenho vcs (e tu também, não chora!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;"e, se for pra ficar triste, que seja com você assim, do meu lado... calado... pensando no que seria se não fosse, pensando nas coisas que ainda hão de ser... sem entender direito porque, de todos os outros, eu te escolhi para ficar aqui, sentado ao meu lado... calado." Biá&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-7708229037305133161?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7708229037305133161/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7708229037305133161&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7708229037305133161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7708229037305133161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/mesmice-me-agradaassim-como-o-frio.html' title='A mesmice me agrada...assim como o frio!'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RniZ5WT8D_I/AAAAAAAAAJY/vDYLD5sRN4k/s72-c/bia+frio+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-4827734655361201409</id><published>2007-06-16T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T20:14:39.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Time I Saw Paris</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnSQmWT8D-I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/IeJU8Oz9Lcg/s1600-h/DVDLastTime_Paris.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076841668452028386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnSQmWT8D-I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/IeJU8Oz9Lcg/s200/DVDLastTime_Paris.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adoro filmes antigos... não estou falando de Matrix ou Shrek 1, e sim daqueles que, graças à tecnologia, foram relançados em cores. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Na verdade, agora estou percebendo que dois dos meus filmes prediletos são originalmente em preto-e-branco: &lt;em&gt;Wuthering Heights&lt;/em&gt;, leia-se, a primeira versão, &amp; ...&lt;em&gt;Gone With the Wind. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No sábado, assisti &lt;em&gt;"The Last Time I Saw Paris", com a&lt;/em&gt; Elizabeth Taylor, linda de morrer (ou então de matar). Tá, admito que o enredo nem é lá essas coisas, mas tem umas sacadas bem legais que, por acaso, eu coloquei neste post. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tá, o tema do post de hoje nem tem muito a ver com o dia.. mas já tinha este post aqui e, pra não desperdiçar, aproveitei que não estou com muuuuuitoooo saco de escrever coisas bonitinhas.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- Do you mind if Paul takes me home? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- Paul who? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- Paul anybody. Party like this, must be at least 7 Pauls.&lt;br /&gt;........................................&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;- Of course I love you.&lt;br /&gt;- Love is never of course.&lt;br /&gt;.......................................&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;- I've been having a bad day for a year now, maybe it's time to grow up.&lt;br /&gt;-It's too late to grow up.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-4827734655361201409?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/4827734655361201409/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=4827734655361201409&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4827734655361201409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4827734655361201409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/last-time-i-saw-paris.html' title='The Last Time I Saw Paris'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnSQmWT8D-I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/IeJU8Oz9Lcg/s72-c/DVDLastTime_Paris.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1564732248203769603</id><published>2007-06-16T17:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T17:37:11.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Um bolero</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnSA3mT8D9I/AAAAAAAAAJI/IwuLpys6B04/s1600-h/p%C3%A9s.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076824372618727378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnSA3mT8D9I/AAAAAAAAAJI/IwuLpys6B04/s400/p%C3%A9s.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E se a gente dançasse? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Assim, de rosto colado, ao som de um antigo bolero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;daqueles que só tocam em vitrolas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Como seria bom poder, enfim, sussurar no teu ouvido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tudo aquilo que há muito tempo eu te digo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E se, ao invés do bolero, voássemos pra longe? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Meu corpo e o teu, um só&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Afagante enlace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dos meus braços faríamos asas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E nossos corações dariam a batida &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;marcando passo a passo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;cada passo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(que daríamos)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Foto: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"bote aqui o seu pezinho"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; com Edu, Michelle, Lorão, Thaty e Eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;.......divagações de alguém que está cansada, muitooooo cansada......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-1564732248203769603?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1564732248203769603/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1564732248203769603&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1564732248203769603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1564732248203769603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/um-bolero.html' title='Um bolero'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnSA3mT8D9I/AAAAAAAAAJI/IwuLpys6B04/s72-c/p%C3%A9s.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-3384227894176140363</id><published>2007-06-13T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T20:38:47.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little bit...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnC32GT8D7I/AAAAAAAAAI4/vHZJoLyVK8E/s1600-h/fallengirl_lollipop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075758920081608626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnC32GT8D7I/AAAAAAAAAI4/vHZJoLyVK8E/s400/fallengirl_lollipop.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Porque estes últimos dias têm sido de trabalho, conversas ao vento e reflexão... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;muita reflexão... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cigarettes And Chocolate Milk &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Rufus Wainwright&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cigarettes and chocolate milk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;These are just a couple of my cravings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Everything it seems I like's a little bit stronger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A little bit thicker, a little bit harmful for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;If &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I should buy jellybean &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Have to eat them all in just one sitting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Everything it seems I like's a little bit sweeter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A little bit fatter, a little bit harmful for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You got to keep in the game&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Retaining mystique while facing forward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm just a little bit heiress, a little bit Irish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A little bit Tower of Pisa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whenever I see ya&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o please be kind if I'm a mess&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cigarettes and chocolate milk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cigarettes and chocolate milk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[agradecimentos especiais à Ídola, que me apresentou ao Rufus e a esta música que me toma o tempo e se transforma cada vez que eu a escuto]&lt;/em&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/7388661127643798955-3384227894176140363?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/3384227894176140363/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=3384227894176140363&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3384227894176140363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/3384227894176140363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/little-bit.html' title='A little bit...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RnC32GT8D7I/AAAAAAAAAI4/vHZJoLyVK8E/s72-c/fallengirl_lollipop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-2423511465320141667</id><published>2007-06-12T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T19:19:59.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me perco, e me acho...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rm9TkGT8D6I/AAAAAAAAAIw/gvrHxnKljVw/s1600-h/aya-kakeda-holiday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075367184704475042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rm9TkGT8D6I/AAAAAAAAAIw/gvrHxnKljVw/s320/aya-kakeda-holiday.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me perco entre os versos que não consigo fazer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;as palavras que não consigo dizer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;transfiguradas entre uma situação e outra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me acho em migalhas de afagos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;entre situações inesperadas que acontecem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;enquanto me desfaço e me faço em planos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;que nunca acontecem como previ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me tranformo em água&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e é assim, na liqüidez dos dias que me faço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e no concreto do chão me lasco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me conformo com a fala entalada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;com a mágoa que mata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;aos poucos como o punhal de Othelo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me escondo de olhares que não olham,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;criticam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;sem entender nem dizer nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me assusto com a correria do desconcertado desconhecido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;que me passa pela rua sem lembrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de quando me beijou a boca com vigor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;do último suspiro que deu antes de partir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me afasto para esconder do mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a fragilidade e a impessoalidade que meu sorriso esconde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me mostro o rosto fronte ao espelho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"o anel que tu me destes era vidro e se quebrou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o amor que tu me tinhas era pouco"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me perco e me acho em eternos labirintos de letras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;que engasgam na minha garganta já ferida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e machucam meu estômago &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;cheio de ácido pueril&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e me perco, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e me acho...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-2423511465320141667?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/2423511465320141667/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=2423511465320141667&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2423511465320141667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/2423511465320141667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/me-perco-e-me-acho.html' title='Me perco, e me acho...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rm9TkGT8D6I/AAAAAAAAAIw/gvrHxnKljVw/s72-c/aya-kakeda-holiday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-9221983684606079659</id><published>2007-06-11T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T15:31:58.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tranças</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E foi assim que a menina que tinha tudo para ser feliz, continuava triste. Em cima de seu castelo, supostamente plena de felicidade, ela não conseguia sorrir de verdade. ... sem entender e sem saber o porquê, ela continuava assim, triste. Não aquela tristeza boa, que se resolve com o tempo, mas um sentimento infindável, sem explicações e, pior de tudo, desprovido de causa ou cura mágica. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não, não adiantou ganhar roupas tecidas com fios de ouro, brincos delicados de rubis nem ter todos os seus desejos realizados. Faltava alguma coisa, e isto ela não sabia o que era. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sem entender nada, muito menos a si mesma, a menina continuava ali, em cima de seu castelo, olhando o mundo passar rápido, fazendo tranças e fazendo planos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Chorava. Mas só de vez em quando. Aprendeu com o tempo que as lágrimas não resolveriam seus problemas e, além disso, não via nos problemas que tinha motivo para desperdiçar lágrimas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074937778169188242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rm3NBWT8D5I/AAAAAAAAAIo/qJDmzxJlwjY/s200/fairy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tudo passava lá em baixo, tão rápido, um ritmo mecânico de vai e vem que parecia nunca chegar até ela. E ela continuava ali, sozinha, esperando para ver o que aconteceria, o que finalmente poderia vir e tirá-la do estado letárgico em que se encontrava. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não, não estava falando de principes encantados que chegariam cavalgando belos animais - desses já havia desistido faz tempo. Esperava aquele não sei o quê acontecer ou chegar, aquele não sei o quê impossível de determinar até que ele chegue ou aconteça. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E ela continuava lá em cima, sem esconder um incauto nervosismo e se perguntando, entre uma trança e outra, "e se não chegasse nunca?"&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/7388661127643798955-9221983684606079659?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/9221983684606079659/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=9221983684606079659&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/9221983684606079659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/9221983684606079659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/tranas.html' title='Tranças'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rm3NBWT8D5I/AAAAAAAAAIo/qJDmzxJlwjY/s72-c/fairy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-622134958121537472</id><published>2007-06-08T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T21:05:05.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Salipi - Must Have</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.fabiolima.blog.br/"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073909889416040322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 451px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 314px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="282" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RmomKWT8D4I/AAAAAAAAAIg/2xy7hHZzacA/s400/salipi.jpg" width="412" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;O &lt;a href="http://www.fabiolima.blog.br/"&gt;Fábio Lima&lt;/a&gt; teve uma idéia genial - já não era sem tempo! "Vamos fazer uma lista que coisas legais pra comprar no Salipi?" Claro que eu, amante das idéias legais, topei na hora. Então, o que vocês estão vendo aí são os meus &lt;strong&gt;"MUST HAVES"&lt;/strong&gt; do 5o Salão do Livro do Piauí -Salipi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1) Em um dos estandes mais legais de toda feira, a Loja da Poesia, a literatura ganha formas de travesseiros, aventais, lixeirinhos de papel e coisinhas fofas. De lá, escolhi um &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;cubo meio que pufe &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;que vem na versão preta e laranja, cheio de imagens e frases que vão fazer você parar pra pensar. Meio caro, o cubo serve de banquinho, encosto e qualquer coisa que dê pra fazer com um cubo. Valor: R$ 140,00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;2) Mesmo sendo uma feira de livros, nem esperava encontrar um dos meus livros prediletos porém impossíveis de achar: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Malika Oufkir, Prisioneira do Rei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Bela história de como a vida pode mudar em um piscar de olhos. Li há anooooossss atrás, e nem lembro como cheguei até ele; sei que recomendo para todo mundo e, até agora, ninguém reclamou. Ao contrário, virou o livro predileto de muitas de nós. Tem algumas cópias em versão de bolso no estande Livraria e Papelaria Campos. Valor: R$ 21,50&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;3) Uma preciosidade. Uma raridade. Um luxo só! Já imaginou 70 mp3s com músicas do Torquato Neto? Pois é isso mesmo que está à venda no estande da Fundação Quixote. O &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;cd Torquato Cancioneiro Torquatiano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; ainda vem acompanhado de folhinhas com as letras das músicas. Como vendeu muito, um novo estoque está chegando até sábado. Algumas até inéditas. Um ótimo presentinho pra aquela pessoa difícil de agradar. Valor: R$ 10,00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;4) O &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;cinzeiro do Salipi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; também é um "must have". Eu sei que fumar não é chique, nem tem a ver com o banho de cultura que o Saláo proporciona. Afinal, como diz o Fábio que leu na Marie Claire, "chique é ser inteligente". Mas.... o cinzeiro é fofo. Eu compraria. Valor: R$ 5,00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;5) Um dos lugares mais interessantes de todo Salipi é o Sebim do Salipi. Com peças doadas ao professor José Elias, tem de tudo: livros, vhs, vinis e "velharias" que chamam atenção de colecionadores, curiosos e quem gosta de viajar no túnel do tempo. Escolhi um que me jogou de volta à minha casa láááá da Lemos Cunha, ouvindo meus disquinhos sentada no sofá e achando o máximo. "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;vinil puro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;". Quer uma tarde melhor do que esta? Só mesmo com as histórias da Cinderela e da Chapeuzinho Vermelho. Valor: Todos os vinis são R$ 5,00&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/7388661127643798955-622134958121537472?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/622134958121537472/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=622134958121537472&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/622134958121537472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/622134958121537472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/salipi-must-have.html' title='Salipi - Must Have'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RmomKWT8D4I/AAAAAAAAAIg/2xy7hHZzacA/s72-c/salipi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1032320111305205117</id><published>2007-06-08T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T13:15:53.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Enquanto você vê...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rmm4PGT8D3I/AAAAAAAAAIY/C2RQfvH0b_M/s1600-h/CIMG3676.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073789024741363570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rmm4PGT8D3I/AAAAAAAAAIY/C2RQfvH0b_M/s400/CIMG3676.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Porque enquanto você vê a matéria na televisão, toda bonitinha, editada e só com as melhores partes...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Gente, cadê o Assis Brasil? Ele tem uma entrevista em 10 minutos!! Como assim ninguém sabe? Liga pra quem ficou de pegar ele no hotel. Disseram que ele já saiu? Como asssim? Com quem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(fazendo cara tranqüila) Olha, o Assis está chegando. Já saiu do hotel e deve estar chegando... É, preso no trânsito, vocês sabem como é este horário de 17:39 da tarde. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Gente, é sério. Cadê o Assis?? Ah sim, parece que a tia da cunhada da parafuseta da rebimboca avisou que ouviu dizer que ele veio de táxi? Com quem? Sozinho? E ele sabe onde é aqui? ... 24 minutos, 18 segundos, 9 milésimos de segundos depois... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(fazendo cara de muito, mas muito tranqüila) Olha, acabei de falar com ele. Chega em dois minutinhos, tá? Vocês querem uma água enqüanto esperam? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ai, acho que ali é ele. É, é ele sim... descendo as escadas... ufa!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Assis, Assis, aqui! Aqui! Ah, você adorou a cidade? Que bom.. vamos andando aqui, um pouquinho mais rápido, depois você vê esse estande de livros usados, tá? Tem um pessoal da televisão aqui esperando. É, eu sei, eles vão adorar você também...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;... Estamos aqui com um dos maiores nomes da literatura ...&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/7388661127643798955-1032320111305205117?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1032320111305205117/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1032320111305205117&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1032320111305205117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1032320111305205117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/enquanto-voc-v.html' title='Enquanto você vê...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rmm4PGT8D3I/AAAAAAAAAIY/C2RQfvH0b_M/s72-c/CIMG3676.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5006056122363547864</id><published>2007-06-05T20:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T20:49:24.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O tempo que passamos juntas...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RmYtxGT8D2I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/uAPKNgKlCgw/s1600-h/thaty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072792351810522978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RmYtxGT8D2I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/uAPKNgKlCgw/s400/thaty.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um post atrasado. Uma amizade que já dura um tempão. Um amor incondicional. Tudo que ela me ensina. &lt;strong&gt;O tempo que passamos juntas.&lt;/strong&gt; As risadas que ela me faz dar. As pequeninas raivas que ela me faz passar. O carinho que só ela sabe dar. As caras que ela faz quando está feliz, triste, chateada. A família dela que eu amo. &lt;strong&gt;O tempo que passamos juntas.&lt;/strong&gt; As nossas conversas aleatórias. As nossas conversas bem sérias. Nossos fóruns de debate no msn. As ligações que a gente sempre faz. A intimidade que a gente tem. A amizade que é muito forte. A sintonia que é perfeita. O sorriso dela que é lindo. &lt;strong&gt;O tempo que passamos juntas.&lt;/strong&gt; O bom gosto que ela consegue ter. As coisas que ela me empresta pra eu usar sempre. Tudo que ela entende. O jeito que só ela tem de falar por hooooras a fio, sempre com uma novidade. O primeiro cd da Tracy que ela me deu, que é todo perfeito. O&lt;strong&gt; tempo que passaremos juntas. Sempre.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;A-M-O!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"It's me and you, chasing sunshine ... until tommorrow... What will we do, when the sky falls, and turns to sorrow... we'll pick the pieces when they fall, RISING ABOVE IT ALL" P.F.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-5006056122363547864?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5006056122363547864/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5006056122363547864&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5006056122363547864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5006056122363547864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/o-tempo-que-passamos-juntas.html' title='O tempo que passamos juntas...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RmYtxGT8D2I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/uAPKNgKlCgw/s72-c/thaty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-4940764716483791077</id><published>2007-06-05T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T19:31:43.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alice Ruiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não, juro que não é esquecimento... é pura falta de tempo. Ontem cheguei tão cansada em casa que às 21h já estava mimindo...Dias de muita correria, mas um monte de coisa boa também... stress, mas a satisfação de resolver um problema (ou dois, ou três) não tem comparação.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Só uma resalva: conheci a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ALICE RUIZ&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!!! Perdi a palestra dela no Salipi, mas conversei com ela... muito bom!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Lembra quando você sabia sentir, e sentir era a forma mais sábia de saber, e você nem sabia?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; --- A Alice que disse, no finalzinho da palestra dela que eu consegui assistir.&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/7388661127643798955-4940764716483791077?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/4940764716483791077/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=4940764716483791077&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4940764716483791077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4940764716483791077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/06/alice-ruiz.html' title='Alice Ruiz'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-5234861840322836337</id><published>2007-05-30T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T18:55:59.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>20 razões para amar a Step</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rl4oWnBKZEI/AAAAAAAAAII/PgnasGOrEW8/s1600-h/CIMG3444.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070534599361848386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rl4oWnBKZEI/AAAAAAAAAII/PgnasGOrEW8/s320/CIMG3444.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I've heard it said&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That people come into our lives for a reason&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bringing something we must learn&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And we are led&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To those who help us most to grow&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If we let them&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And we help them in return&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well, I don't know if I believe that's true&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But I know I'm who I am today&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Because I knew you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;" &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Wicked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;1 )Porque antes, eu conhecia ela só como a "tia que morava em Brasília", e agora ela é a Step - adaptação do apelido carinhoso que a gente deu pra ela (Stepmother)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;2) Porque a gente curte ir pra museu e passar horas olhando quadros/artefatos/qualquer coisa velha que coloquem lá dentro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;3) Porque ela sorri de um jeito que eu amo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;4) Porque eu adoro mandar ela usar roupas menos decotadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;5) Porque ela pode usar um decotão e ficar super-mega-ultra-sexy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;6) Porque quando a gente tá junta, o tempo passa bem rapidinho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;7) Porque ela me emprestou a coleção antigoooona dela das Brumas de Avalon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;8) Porque na praia ela curte tomar caipirinha, banhar de mar, tomar sol e comer carangueijo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;9) Porque a gente sempre descobre mais uma coisa em comum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;10) Porque a gente pode estar em Nova York ou Sobral que ela anima&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;11) Porque quando ela fala, eu ouço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;12) Porque quando é a minha vez de falar, ela ouve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;13) Porque ela tem amigos de todas as idades possíveis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;14) Porque ela é linda, linda, linda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;15) Porque ela se garante na hora de trabalhar e ser séria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;16) Porque não dá pra ficar do lado dela muito tempo sem sorrir de alguma besteira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;17) Porque a gente assistiu Wicked e amamos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;18) Porque a gente lê tudo que vê pela frente, assiste filme feito doidas e ainda acha graça de quem não gosta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;19) Porque ela gosta de Chico Buarque igual a minha mamãe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;20) Porque, simplesmente, por ser assim, ela me cativou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-5234861840322836337?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/5234861840322836337/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=5234861840322836337&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5234861840322836337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/5234861840322836337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/05/20-razes-para-amar-step.html' title='20 razões para amar a Step'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rl4oWnBKZEI/AAAAAAAAAII/PgnasGOrEW8/s72-c/CIMG3444.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-8751025459757795970</id><published>2007-05-30T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T11:21:45.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pé na bunda ... ou nada</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rl3AIXBKZDI/AAAAAAAAAIA/0pZkxy9U3AQ/s1600-h/raquel+aparicio1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070420005339423794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rl3AIXBKZDI/AAAAAAAAAIA/0pZkxy9U3AQ/s320/raquel+aparicio1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lágrimas. Não, desta vez não iria enfiar-se embaixo do chuveiro e chorar. Porque esconder? As piores coisas que ouviu foram dela mesma, então de nada adiantaria segurar com pensamentos contentes a verdade. Não adiantaria segurar as lágrimas. Dias de muito caos foram responsáveis pelo súbito descompasso de sua vida, e finalmente era chegada a hora de chorar. Finalmente. Palpitações que invadiram seu corpo, do dedinho do pé até a ponta do nariz a fizeram tremer. Parecia que, de uma hora para outra, algo iria acontecer e ela iria chorar. E nada. Nada daquelas tão ansiosamente aguardadas lágrimas salgadas. De vez em quando ela até tentava, mas via que, ao contrário das pessoas que choravam até em comercial de margarina, as lágrimas que ela possuía só faziam acumular. E nada. Eis que, de repente, como tudo na vida, uma ação desencadeiou várias reações e, mesmo sem entender, sua vida virou caos, e a normalidade deu um pé bem no meio da sua bunda. Isso mesmo, assim, bem de uma vez, chutando-a pra bem longe do conforto que traz insensibilidade no dia-a-dia. E nada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;................. buscando recuperar a ignorância tão boa que a mesmice do cotidiano traz...............&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/7388661127643798955-8751025459757795970?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/8751025459757795970/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=8751025459757795970&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8751025459757795970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8751025459757795970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/05/p-na-bunda-ou-nada.html' title='Pé na bunda ... ou nada'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rl3AIXBKZDI/AAAAAAAAAIA/0pZkxy9U3AQ/s72-c/raquel+aparicio1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-8691110787564866512</id><published>2007-05-28T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T20:53:35.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Durma, Medo Meu: O Teatro Mágico</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RluiWHBKZBI/AAAAAAAAAHw/qUd4qh4CQlI/s1600-h/P1180155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069824306260370450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RluiWHBKZBI/AAAAAAAAAHw/qUd4qh4CQlI/s400/P1180155.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Durma, Medo Meu: O Teatro Mágico&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Foto: Rigoberto/Planeta Diário 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo o chão se abre&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No escuro, se acostuma&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Às vezes a coragem é como quando a nova lua&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somos a discórdia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E o perdão&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E nos esquecemos da cor que tinha o céu, assim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Como a saudadeOu uma frase perdida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Durma, Medo Meu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Durma, Medo Meu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hmmm, não&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Às vezes um "não sei"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Janela, madrugada, luz tardia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E o medo nos acorda&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pára e bate o coração&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em pura disritmia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O medo amedronta o medo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vela, madrugada, dia, assim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Como a saudade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ou uma frase perdida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Durma, Medo Meu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;Durma, Medo Meu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;................ grata pelos amigos que me mostram novas músicas legais, pelos que me seguram pela mão quando eu já não consigo mais ficar de pé, pelos que me fazem sorrir sem motivo, pelos que me agüentam mesmo quando eu não quero ficar comigo mesma............&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-8691110787564866512?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/8691110787564866512/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=8691110787564866512&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8691110787564866512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/8691110787564866512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/05/durma-medo-meu-o-teatro-mgico.html' title='Durma, Medo Meu: O Teatro Mágico'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RluiWHBKZBI/AAAAAAAAAHw/qUd4qh4CQlI/s72-c/P1180155.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-6591961942285980467</id><published>2007-05-27T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T11:27:32.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No meio ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E no meio de tanta mágoa, tanta coisa que eu queria ter dito e não disse, eu te liguei para dizer que sentia muito, para saber que horas seria o velório e para saber se você precisava de alguma coisa... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não, a gente conversa sobre as outras coisas depois... agora, o que importa é você, sua família e esse momento ruim que vocês estão passando... depois a gente conversa e eu digo que ainda estou chateada com o que aconteceu, mas agora não é hora... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;no meio de tanta coisa, no meio deste vendaval de coisas tão ruins que estão acontecendo, eu te ligo e a gente tá normal denovo - por alguns segundos... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e no meio de tanta coisa ruim, depois a gente conversa sobre as outras coisas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-6591961942285980467?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/6591961942285980467/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=6591961942285980467&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6591961942285980467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/6591961942285980467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/05/no-meio.html' title='No meio ...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-4096447642956434571</id><published>2007-05-23T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T20:57:18.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Esqueci</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RlUMwHBKZAI/AAAAAAAAAHo/dVaQqErNq4A/s1600-h/CIMG0723.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067970976332538882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RlUMwHBKZAI/AAAAAAAAAHo/dVaQqErNq4A/s200/CIMG0723.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Esqueci muitas das coisas que eu gostava muito:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Foto: De Cima Para Baixo/Torre Eifell/2006 by Biá Boakari&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Esqueci de ler por prazer, de ficar em casa fazendo nada (não, ficar no computador procurando o que fazer não conta), de comer pipoca com muito queijo ralado, de falar no msn com a Yatta quando ela está bem ali no outro quarto, de ir pra casa de alguém e ficar só conversando, de dormir sem ter que ligar o despertador, de escrever sem motivo algum, de ficar fumando com o Francis, de fazer pipoca pra mamãe, de ler revista besta (sem atentar para o estilo que a repórter usou, ou como ela transiciona de uma citação para o texto), de tirar foto de flor, de ver Jô Soares sem tentar entender o método de entrevista que ele usa, de sair de casa sem rumo, de ouvir Ace of Base e Oasis, de cantar sem saber a letra, de dançar só pra mim, de dormir sem sono, de não entender um livro e deixar por isto mesmo...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;esqueci um pouco de mim, mas acho que estou voltando... aos poucos... bem pouco...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;p.s.: uma das coisas que eu adoro é o Robert Frost. A melancolia nos textos dele são tão impressionantes porque não parecem melancólicas; de um jeito ou de outro, parece filme que tem final feliz... quem tiver um tempinho, dá uma procurada nas coisas dele... são muito boas!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;acquainted with the night : Robert Frost&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have been one acquainted with the night.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have walked out in rain --and back in rain.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have outwalked the furthest city light.&lt;br /&gt;I have looked down the saddest city lane.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have passed by the watchman on his beat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When far away an interrupted cry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Came over houses from another street,&lt;br /&gt;But not to call me back or say good-bye;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And further still at an unearthly height&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One luminary clock against the sky&lt;br /&gt;Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have been one acquainted with the night.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7388661127643798955-4096447642956434571?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/4096447642956434571/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=4096447642956434571&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4096447642956434571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/4096447642956434571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/05/esqueci.html' title='Esqueci'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RlUMwHBKZAI/AAAAAAAAAHo/dVaQqErNq4A/s72-c/CIMG0723.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-1852924905434030124</id><published>2007-05-22T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T16:26:51.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Em casa... AMO</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RlN8H3BKY_I/AAAAAAAAAHg/Y9rJp1udjm0/s1600-h/vladstudio_bound4_800x600.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067530480191693810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RlN8H3BKY_I/AAAAAAAAAHg/Y9rJp1udjm0/s320/vladstudio_bound4_800x600.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nossa!! Fazia tanto tempo que eu não ficava em casa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;só em casa, com as meninas (leia-se mamãe e Yatta).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É bom... ficar batendo papo, desfiando os acontecimentos do dia, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;assistindo televisão, lendo... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;AMO...&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/7388661127643798955-1852924905434030124?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/1852924905434030124/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=1852924905434030124&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1852924905434030124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/1852924905434030124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/05/em-casa-amo.html' title='Em casa... AMO'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RlN8H3BKY_I/AAAAAAAAAHg/Y9rJp1udjm0/s72-c/vladstudio_bound4_800x600.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-364029377391936541</id><published>2007-05-20T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T07:54:44.598-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trincar...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RlBhBXBKY-I/AAAAAAAAAHY/dTvMAGoBbOI/s1600-h/vladstudio_cantsleep_800x600.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066656256778462178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RlBhBXBKY-I/AAAAAAAAAHY/dTvMAGoBbOI/s200/vladstudio_cantsleep_800x600.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foi bem baixinho, por debaixo das cobertas, com o ar ligado... nem deu pra ouvir direito... mas quebrou. Virou para o lado, tentou ignorar (enfim, mais uma vez) aquele trincar, que mais parecia vidro-porcelana-daqueles-bem-delicados. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Agora foi, desta vez foi pra valer. Trincou e, quando ela decidiu levantar pra fazer xixi, sentiu que se partira. Mais uma vez seu coraçãozinho estava quebrado. Não, não era mais um momento de ficar triste. Quem sabe uma pequena lamentação. Deu vontade de catar os pedacinhos, um por um, tentar colar de volta daquele jeito que só mulher sabe fazer. Mas não, desta vez era realmente diferente. As peças, eram muitas. A aflição não terminara. Depois de tantas idas e vindas, finalmente se foi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E foi pra melhor - e foi? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fez xixi, lavou o rosto, reparou nas marcas de rímel que agora formavam manchas pretas ao redor dos olhos, prestou atenção ao seu redor e pronto. Foi suficiente. Sabia que, não importava quanto dela havia ficado ali, ao lado da cama, ela mesma ainda estava inteira -ou quase; pelo menos inteira o suficiente pra ir devagarzinho pra baixo das cobertas, desligar o despertador e dormir. Em paz. &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/7388661127643798955-364029377391936541?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/364029377391936541/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=364029377391936541&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/364029377391936541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/364029377391936541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/05/trincar.html' title='Trincar...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/RlBhBXBKY-I/AAAAAAAAAHY/dTvMAGoBbOI/s72-c/vladstudio_cantsleep_800x600.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7388661127643798955.post-7737398833342107373</id><published>2007-05-17T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T20:59:41.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Planeta...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rk0it3BKY9I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0e2aTQNrhIw/s1600-h/Fotos+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065743327119958994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rk0it3BKY9I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0e2aTQNrhIw/s200/Fotos+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dia cheio, noite animada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Planeta com a turminha (ih, parece coisa de criança, né? mas às vezes é assim que a gente se sente)... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mary Jane, goles de uma caipirinha muito azeda, latas e latas de guaraná diet (o que? você não toma coca cola??!!), um repertório que eu mesma escolheria pra tocar aqui em casa ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Balada do Amor Inabalável: Skank&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu levo essa canção de amor dançante &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;pra você lembrar de mim,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;seu coração lembrar de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;na confusão do dia-a-dia &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;no sufoco de uma dúvida,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;na dor de qualquer coisa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;É só tocar essa balada de swing inabalável &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;que é o oásis do amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu vou dizendo na sequência bem clichê:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;eu preciso de você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pa-nan-nan...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;E' forca antiga do espírito virando convivência &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;de amizade apaixonada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sonho, sexo, paixão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Vontade gêmea de ficar e não pensar em nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Planejando pra fazer acontecer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;ou simplesmente refinando essa amizade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu vou dizendo na sequência bem clichê:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;eu preciso de você&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/7388661127643798955-7737398833342107373?l=morrerderir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/feeds/7737398833342107373/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7388661127643798955&amp;postID=7737398833342107373&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7737398833342107373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7388661127643798955/posts/default/7737398833342107373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morrerderir.blogspot.com/2007/05/no-planeta.html' title='No Planeta...'/><author><name>O nome do blog é inspirado no filme "Bonequinha de Luxo"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05804865960328408777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_bFGa7VckNOQ/Rk0it3BKY9I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0e2aTQNrhIw/s72-c/Fotos+015.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
