<?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-8935670550916490784</id><updated>2012-02-16T20:34:12.759-03:00</updated><category term='arte'/><category term='cool'/><category term='inútil'/><category term='música'/><category term='pessoal'/><category term='mixtape'/><category term='cinema'/><category term='cultura'/><category term='faculdade'/><category term='vidaalheia'/><title type='text'>Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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>308</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-6281467397739587352</id><published>2012-02-07T23:31:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T23:38:42.984-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;tô até agora tentando entender a razão pela qual eu desisti de você. eu disse pra mim mesma que esta seria a decisão mais fácil, só que esqueci que também seria a mais sofrida. mas assim você pode seguir em frente e aos poucos não vai nem lembrar que eu existo. não sei porque eu me condeno tanto, não me dou o direito nem de tentar ser feliz, já vou colocando na minha cabeça que iria dar muito trabalho. você teria que me amar muito pra passar por cima de tudo o que você não entende agora. você disse que eu não fazia sentido e talvez seja melhor que você continue pensando assim. guarde essa imagem minha com você e ao longos dos anos, tente viver como se tudo o que passou tivesse sido um sonho. vai ser melhor pra você e acho até&amp;nbsp; que vai ser melhor pra mim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;pelo menos eu tenho que acreditar que de alguma forma isso vai ser melhor pra mim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6281467397739587352?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6281467397739587352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6281467397739587352&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6281467397739587352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6281467397739587352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2012/02/to-agora-tentando-entende-razao-pela.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-8408064810062860949</id><published>2012-02-07T23:11:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T23:11:56.143-03:00</updated><title type='text'>the city sunset over me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just wanna say&lt;br /&gt;Don't ever change now baby&lt;br /&gt;I'd thank you&lt;br /&gt;I don't think we will meet again&lt;br /&gt;And you must leave now&lt;br /&gt;Before the sun rises&lt;br /&gt;Over the skyscrapers&lt;br /&gt;And the city landscape comes into view&lt;br /&gt;Sweat on my skin&lt;br /&gt;Oh&lt;br /&gt;This mess we're in...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-8408064810062860949?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/8408064810062860949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=8408064810062860949&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8408064810062860949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8408064810062860949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2012/02/city-sunset-over-me.html' title='the city sunset over me'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-220371587369791410</id><published>2012-02-04T15:33:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T15:33:56.868-03:00</updated><title type='text'>failure</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/-Iiz4nGw8YQ/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-Iiz4nGw8YQ&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-Iiz4nGw8YQ&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Failure, it's always the best way to learn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;retracing your steps until you know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;have no fear, your wounds will heal..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-220371587369791410?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/220371587369791410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=220371587369791410&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/220371587369791410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/220371587369791410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2012/02/failure.html' title='failure'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-2236535473670253578</id><published>2012-02-04T15:26:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T02:11:28.596-03:00</updated><title type='text'>some things last a long time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's saturday&amp;nbsp; and I'm at home alone with a bottle of whisky that I stole from my dad. Fucking drunk and depressed on saturday. It feels like if I don't find any solution for this feeling I have inside me, I'll probably become an alcoholic pretty soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I wonder if God has plans for me in the future or he chose me to be one of this miserable persons that at the age of 30 are hopeless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-2236535473670253578?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/2236535473670253578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=2236535473670253578&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2236535473670253578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2236535473670253578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2012/02/somethings-last-for-long-time.html' title='some things last a long time'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1908932277877580723</id><published>2012-02-01T20:18:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T20:19:25.360-03:00</updated><title type='text'>é tanta saudade</title><content type='html'>que às vezes nem cabe aqui dentro do peito.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1908932277877580723?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1908932277877580723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1908932277877580723&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1908932277877580723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1908932277877580723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2012/02/e-tanta-saudade.html' title='é tanta saudade'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-2528254948509961286</id><published>2012-02-01T20:13:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T20:13:51.752-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>vai pela sombra, firme,&lt;br /&gt;o desejo desespero de voltar&lt;br /&gt;antes mesmo de ir-me&lt;br /&gt;antes de cometer o crime,&lt;br /&gt;me transformar em outro&lt;br /&gt;ou em outro transformar-me&lt;br /&gt;quem sabe obra de arte,&lt;br /&gt;talvez, sei lá, falso alarme,&lt;br /&gt;grito caindo no poço,&lt;br /&gt;neste pouco poço nada vejo nem ouço,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_hide"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt; mais mais mais&lt;br /&gt;cada vez menos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poder isso, sinto, é tudo que posso,&lt;br /&gt;o tão pouco tudo que temos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;////////sei lá, paulo leminski&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-2528254948509961286?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/2528254948509961286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=2528254948509961286&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2528254948509961286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2528254948509961286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2012/02/vai-pela-sombra-firme-o-desejo.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6125495725427815062</id><published>2012-01-26T22:41:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T23:38:15.700-03:00</updated><title type='text'>um oceano de distância.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;vou lembrar da gente bebendo guinness e indo lá fora observar aquela multidão sem rumo perto do pub. todo mundo meio bêbado, era aniversário de alguém que trabalhava lá. vou lembrar de quantas vezes cheguei em casa cheia de areia porque no final das contas, sempre tínhamos o mar como testemunha na madrugada. Vou&amp;nbsp; lembrar de todas as vezes que você me olhou que nem criança e disse "por favor". Sempre com esperança de que eu cedesse, mas eu nunca cedia.&amp;nbsp; De quando acordamos de ressaca e você me deu aquela bebida intragável, mas que me fez sentir como nova. Do calor lá fora, de ser duas horas da tarde e pra gente, naquela escuridão gelada, parecer ser ainda de noite. Vou lembrar de quantas vezes você disse que não me entendia e me olhou como se fosse um enigma. E eu ria fingindo não me importar apesar de&amp;nbsp; estar completamente apavorada&amp;nbsp; por dentro. Ali estávamos nós e tocava "brand new start"do Little joy no fundo. A gente ria porque parecia que falavam da gente. Vou lembrar de você e vou sempre sorrir, mesmo quando quero chorar de saudade. Porque você foi&amp;nbsp; o meu presente. Você foi o meu amor. O meu segundo amor. O amor maduro. Aquele com quem eu viveria para sempre. É difícil pensar que eu tenho que ser a parte durona da história, sou eu quem tenho que dizer que tudo vai ficar bem, que você vai ser feliz onde quer que esteja e&amp;nbsp; que eu vou estar feliz também - ficaremos felizes um pelo outro - foi o que prometemos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No fundo, fico pensando que um dia vou te encontrar de novo. E eu vou sorrir, porque depois de tanto tempo estarei diante do amor novamente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6125495725427815062?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6125495725427815062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6125495725427815062&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6125495725427815062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6125495725427815062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2012/01/um-oceano-de-distancia.html' title='um oceano de distância.'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6702548144390384762</id><published>2011-08-07T23:24:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-07T23:26:43.318-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Omelete</title><content type='html'>Me sinto como se estivesse pisando em ovos. A qualquer momento, uma ação errada, uma palavra mal interpretada e tudo vai cair diante dos meus olhos. Queria que as coisas fossem mais simples, aliás, queria gostar de coisas simples. Mas já assumi: eu gosto é do complicado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6702548144390384762?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6702548144390384762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6702548144390384762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6702548144390384762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6702548144390384762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2011/08/me-sinto-como-estivesse-pisando-em-ovos.html' title='Omelete'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-8922924372890539848</id><published>2010-11-15T22:27:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T22:27:07.780-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Você por aqui outra vez?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-8922924372890539848?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/8922924372890539848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=8922924372890539848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8922924372890539848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8922924372890539848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/11/voce-por-aqui-outra-vez.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-7783645064793473220</id><published>2010-11-15T22:25:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T22:25:55.208-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Balada do Amor Inabalável</title><content type='html'>Eu levo essa canção&lt;br /&gt;De amor dançante&lt;br /&gt;Prá você lembrar de mim&lt;br /&gt;Seu coração lembrar de mim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na confusão do dia-a-dia&lt;br /&gt;No sufoco de uma dúvida&lt;br /&gt;Na dor de qualquer coisa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É só tocar essa balada&lt;br /&gt;De swing inabalável&lt;br /&gt;Que é o oásis pr'o amor&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou dizendo&lt;br /&gt;Na seqüência bem clichê&lt;br /&gt;Eu preciso de você...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É força antiga do espírito&lt;br /&gt;Virando convivência&lt;br /&gt;De amizade apaixonada&lt;br /&gt;Sonho, sexo, paixão&lt;br /&gt;Vontade gêmea de ficar&lt;br /&gt;E não pensar em nada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Planejando&lt;br /&gt;Prá fazer acontecer&lt;br /&gt;Ou simplesmente&lt;br /&gt;Refinando essa amizade&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou dizendo&lt;br /&gt;Na sequência bem clichê&lt;br /&gt;Eu preciso de você...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que a gente se separe&lt;br /&gt;Por uns tempos ou quando&lt;br /&gt;Você quiser lembrar de mim&lt;br /&gt;Toque a balada&lt;br /&gt;Do Amor Inabalável&lt;br /&gt;Swing de amor nesse planeta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que a gente se separe&lt;br /&gt;Por uns tempos ou quando&lt;br /&gt;Você quiser lembrar de mim&lt;br /&gt;Toque a balada&lt;br /&gt;Seja antes ou depois&lt;br /&gt;Eterna Love Song de nós dois...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-7783645064793473220?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/7783645064793473220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=7783645064793473220&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7783645064793473220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7783645064793473220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/11/balada-do-amor-inabalavel.html' title='Balada do Amor Inabalável'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-603220600878747671</id><published>2010-11-08T20:22:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-07T22:27:16.817-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Retrospectiva</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dando uma visualizada nos arquivos do blog desde 2007 dei muita risada ao perceber que passado quase 4 anos eu continuo sendo a mesma menina de opiniões digamos assim...forte. Abaixo eu selecionei as que eu considerei mais engraçadas e/ou polêmicas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tenho saído tanto que já me sinto íntima da madrugada.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;b&gt;24.4.10&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Poucas coisas nessa vida me dão mais felicidade do que os filmes do Woody Allen. Por uma hora ou duas, eu tenho a impressão de que sou normal e o mundo é feito de pessoas neuróticas.”&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;18.4.10&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“É uma pena perceber que certas pessoas estão como umas daquelas roupas que você vai doar porque sabe que não vai usar mais.”&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;13.4.10&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Você, meu amigo, que está na fase nunca-mais-vou-me-apaixonar, que escuta "Creep" todos os dias e não sabe o que fazer pra esquecer fulaninho(a), aqui vão algumas dicas: leia o livro do Takeda, tome muitos porres, respeite o seu tempo antes de conhecer outras pessoas e espere.”&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;9.11.09&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“E o pior é que eu admito, admito que a minha vida quando está assim, completamente pelos ares, admito que é quando eu sinto esse aperto no coração e as noites de insônia é que eu me sinto feliz, parece que eu nasci mesmo com esse karma de gostar de coisas complicadas. Eu preciso complicar pra me sentir viva. Mas no fundo, eu sei que é tudo muito simples.”&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;12.5.09&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Então, não adianta, não adianta vir me convidar e me contar how cool foi sua noite indie rock, porque sinceramente? Caguei”.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;11.2.09&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Não tem jeito. Vou ser assim pra sempre: Fo-di-da.” &lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;17.2.08&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Às vezes, eu acho que a minha vida seria totalmente diferente se eu fosse mais magra. Certeza.” &lt;b&gt;15.2.08&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Essa história de romance pra mim é lenda. Sei o que é sentir vontade, mas não faço a menor idéia de como é esse lance de se apaixonar. Diz aí vocês que sabem! Rola borboleta no estômago mesmo? Cansei de ficar mal por causa de homem filho-da-puta. Vão todos se foder. Eu quero ficar sozinha, porra! Eu estou bem assim. Só eu e minha solidão, ouvindo Velvet Underground o dia in-tei-ro e pensando que eu queria ter o telefone do Lou Reed, tipo assim, ligar pro cara e dizer que eu ouço mil vezes "Pale Blue Eyes" e que essa música significa coisa pra burro pra mim. Parece até que ele sabia. Se bem que no fundo ele sabe, ele tem que saber, porra! “&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;18.1.08&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Posso resumir minha vida em uma palavra: ressaca.”&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;24.12.07&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Eu estou bem pra caralho, porque eu tenho ainda meia garrafa de vodka vagabunda em casa pra me dá uma puta ressaca e me fazer esquecer dos problemas que me afligem que nem são tantos assim, mas eu sou chegada num drama.”&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;5.10.07&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Estava aqui em casa fazendo nada quando toca uma música do Los Hermanos no vizinho. Gente, ainda bem que Los Hermanos acabou. Sério. Não dava mais, tava no limite. Tudo bem que eu tenho os CD's, mas presta atenção, Los hermanos é chaaaaato toda vida.”&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;7.9.07&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Não aguento mais essa gente descolada, de camiseta de listras tomando café num calor insuportável do Rio de Janeiro, chorando porque queria estar congelando as bolas na Europa.” &lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;7.9.07&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Acredito eu, que o ódio seja uma espécie de amor, mas um amor doentio, um amor feio, um não querer bem. O amor que foi entregue e negado, e um amor que é negado, volta tingido de sangue, embrulhado em dor. Dor que se espalha por todo o corpo até atingir a alma.”&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;20.8.07&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Eu te odeio alguns dias da semana, mas ainda reservo outros pra te amar.”&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;20.8.07&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Ofereço todo o meu mísero salário pra quem sumir com a Ivete Sangalo e com todas as cópias do DVD dela.”&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;15.6.07&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Isso tudo é um monte de merda. Acho que um mundo de bêbados incorrigíveis por vezes seria preferível a esta hipocrisia.&lt;/i&gt;” &lt;i&gt;10.3.07&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;“E você pagou um ano de terapia porque a namorada terminou contigo, quando tudo o que precisava fazer era comprar um livro do Nick Hornby. Pois bem, agora é só comprar o cd do Wilco. Moleza ein parceiro?!&lt;/i&gt;” &lt;b&gt;27.4.07&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;‘Eu inferiorizo qualquer banda que toque algo que tenha a ver com hardcore. Eles precisam ouvir mais Wilco e aprender como que se faz música. Se for pra escolher, eu prefiro os coroas barrigudos e cabeludos com suas jaquetas de couro.” &lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;29.4.07&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;“O que me irrita são aqueles homens que tratam mulheres como seres inferiores, mas hoje vão chegar em casa com rosas e chocolate e com sorte conseguem uma foda. E a mulher fica se sentindo especial. Ridículo.&lt;/i&gt;” &lt;b&gt;8.3.07&lt;/b&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/8935670550916490784-603220600878747671?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/603220600878747671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=603220600878747671&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/603220600878747671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/603220600878747671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/11/retrospectiva.html' title='Retrospectiva'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-970555092611867281</id><published>2010-11-06T22:56:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T22:59:50.174-03:00</updated><title type='text'>refazenda</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Essa vida é muito louca. Primeiro semestre foi só derrota. Sofri dois acidentes de carro e escapei ilesa nos dois por milagre. No entanto, desenvolvi um transtorno e não consigo mais andar de carro sem suar e ficar desesperada. Me afastei de um monte de pessoas com quem eu vivia junta. Levei a faculdade tão a sério que todo mundo estranhou (não que eu não levasse antes, mas nunca fui a nerd da sala como fui nesta época). Estava completamente desanimada e sem esperanças no amor, na amizade e principalmente com o futuro. O futuro era simplesmente uma incógnita.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E aí eu fiz o que todo mundo deveria fazer cada vez que se sentisse insatisfeito com o mundo. Fui viajar. Juntei dois dos meus grandes amigos (um dos poucos que sobraram) e fiz uma viagem inesquecível pelo Nordeste. Acho que nunca vou esquecer a cor de Olinda e a primeira vez que pisei na terrinha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Quando voltei tudo tinha acontecido. De repente, eu estava morando sozinha&amp;nbsp; no Leblon!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Conheci lugares e pessoas novas. No ritmo da vida, acabei deixando pra trás tudo aquilo que eu carregava apenas por precaução. Sabe aquelas pessoas que não fazem falta na sua vida, mas que você tem medo de deixar&amp;nbsp; por achar&amp;nbsp; que se fosse fazer isso de verdade não sobraria ninguém? Pois, é. Realmente não sobrou quase ninguém. Mas pude conhecer outras e apesar do golpe valeu muito a pena. Me sinto como se tivesse amadurecido em dois meses o que eu não amadureci em vinte anos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E aí, de repente, quando minha vida estava tão corrida que nem estava prestando muito atenção nisto,&amp;nbsp; eu arranjo um emprego. E um emprego na MINHA ÁREA que é a coisa mais rara do mundo. E um emprego onde eu me divirto. Porque não posso chamar de trabalho um lugar onde tem arte por todos os lados.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Então sei lá, sabe. A gente passa muito tempo reclamando da vida. Fase ruins todos nós temos, mas não adianta desistir. Essa vida dá muitas voltas. Precisamos deixar o coração aberto e dizer sim a tudo o que a vida oferece pra gente. Numa dessas a gente descobre uma grande oportunidade para se reinventar e se apaixonar de novo, por si mesmo, por alguém, mas principalmente pela vida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-970555092611867281?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/970555092611867281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=970555092611867281&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/970555092611867281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/970555092611867281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/11/essa-vida-e-muito-louca.html' title='refazenda'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-8578489567820187296</id><published>2010-10-05T18:48:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T18:49:01.374-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Consegui meu primeiro emprego e na área que eu sempre quis! Obrigada, obrigada, obrigada!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-8578489567820187296?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/8578489567820187296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=8578489567820187296&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8578489567820187296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8578489567820187296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/10/consegui-meu-primeiro-emprego-e-na-hora.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-628933910772822880</id><published>2010-09-27T16:52:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T16:57:58.059-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O terceiro ato</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"então ele se foi pela segunda vez. sabia que ele voltaria. enquanto não acaba o amor, nada se resolve." Clarah Averbuck&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu descobri que preciso da terceira cena. Duas vezes não foram suficientes e falo isso por mim e não por você. Eu preciso do terceiro ato. Aquele que trás junto de si toda a dor necessária e toda a felicidade merecida ou não. Toda essa minha vida de solidão é só porque mesmo com o passar dos anos, eu inconscientemente estou fechada porque não resolvi as coisas com você. Eu não te xinguei nem dei na sua cara, nem te amei o tanto que queria, nem gritei para o mundo ir se foder e deixar a gente amar em paz, nem se quer eu chorei as lágrimas que eu precisava. Não. Eu simplesmente engoli tudo, removi todas as lembranças, taquei tudo em uma caixa dentro do meu coração e aquilo ficou lá. E está lá até hoje.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Agora eu sinto que preciso jogar tudo&amp;nbsp;isso fora. Não adianta dizer para o mundo que já superei, porque ao que parece nunca vou consegui superar. Eu não imaginava que se desvencilhar de um amor era assim uma coisa tão difícil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Agora não é mais questão de querer, é questão de precisar. Eu preciso falar com você e te perguntar o motivo de tudo aquilo e preciso te perdoar e me perdoar&amp;nbsp; e perdoar nós dois por sermos tão confusos e idiotas. Eu preciso botar pra fora e tentar de novo se for o caso, nem que seja pra ouvir você me dizer com todas as letras que eu sou louca e que sempre estive nessa sozinha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Não importa mais agora. Não importa se o último ato termina com a personagem principal morta. Eu preciso saber ou nunca vou conseguir seguir em frente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-628933910772822880?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/628933910772822880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=628933910772822880&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/628933910772822880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/628933910772822880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/09/entao-ele-se-foi-pela-segunda-vez.html' title='O terceiro ato'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1586873590143167000</id><published>2010-09-27T14:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T14:42:45.730-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;(...) É bom que seja assim, Dionísio, que não venhas. Voz e vento apenas das coisas do lá fora. E sozinha supor que se estivesses dentro, essa voz importante e esse vento das ramagens de fora eu jamais ouviria. Atento, meu ouvido escutaria o sumo do teu canto. Que não venhas, Dionísio. Porque é melhor sonhar tua rudeza e sorver reconquista a cada noite... E o tempo de amanhã será riqueza: a cada noite, eu Ariana, preparando aroma e corpo... e o verso a cada noite se fazendo de tua sábia ausência.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“De Ariana para Dionísio (Ode Descontínua e Remota para Flauta e Oboé)” (Hilda Hilst)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1586873590143167000?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1586873590143167000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1586873590143167000&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1586873590143167000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1586873590143167000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-2410416802411726801</id><published>2010-09-25T12:32:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T12:32:56.510-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Se tiver tempo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;viajarei mais uma vez, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;pois é preciso &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;recolher meus pedaços &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;espalhados pelo mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GADELHA, Raimundo. In: &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman, Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman, Times New Roman;"&gt;Um estreito chamado horizonte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Massao Ohno Editor, São Paulo, 1992.&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-2410416802411726801?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/2410416802411726801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=2410416802411726801&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2410416802411726801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2410416802411726801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/09/se-tiver-tempo-viajarei-mais-uma-vez.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-5127059214754640356</id><published>2010-09-15T07:09:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T07:09:10.984-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Que medo eu tenho de uma pessoa que eu não falo nem quero ver pintada de ouro nunca mais na vida. A pessoa simplesmente não se manca que eu não quero mais o ver. Desconfio que acima de tudo, ele ainda lê este blog, então faz o favor de FINGIR QUE EU MORRI, POR FAVOR.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-5127059214754640356?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5127059214754640356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5127059214754640356&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5127059214754640356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5127059214754640356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/09/que-medo-eu-tenho-de-uma-pessoa-que-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-5844219821109617443</id><published>2010-08-31T19:39:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T19:41:17.420-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Os inocentes do Leblon</title><content type='html'>Vida está tão corrida que nem lembrava mais disso aqui. É incrível as&amp;nbsp;coisas que podem acontecer quando você menos espera. Estou morando sozinha no melhor bairro do Rio de Janeiro com direito à louça suja pra lavar e todas as coisas a que se tem direito quando se está por conta própria.&lt;br /&gt;Mas quer saber? Estou amando!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-5844219821109617443?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5844219821109617443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5844219821109617443&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5844219821109617443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5844219821109617443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/08/o-hotel-marina-quando-acende.html' title='Os inocentes do Leblon'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1904117100315138527</id><published>2010-07-30T13:59:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T14:19:59.732-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O que eu queria te falar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu nunca escondi isso de ninguém. Todos os meus amigos sabem, todos os seus amigos&amp;nbsp;sabem.&amp;nbsp;Ontem mesmo, depois de tomar muitas cervejas confidenciei para uma daquelas pessoas que você conhece no bar e tem certeza que&amp;nbsp;não vai lembrar o nome no dia seguinte.&amp;nbsp;Eu nem sequer lembro como surgiu o assunto, mas lá estava eu mais uma vez&amp;nbsp;contando para um desconhecido que te amava e te amo mesmo depois de tanto tempo.&amp;nbsp;Mesmo depois de eu ter vindo aqui&amp;nbsp; neste blog contar que eu tinha superado. E eu não menti. Eu superei e me apaixono de novo e me iludo e tudo dá errado e volto ao começo. E fico com essas estrias na alma de tanto criar esperança e sentir meu peito cheio pra depois murchar e tudo se diluir. Mas sempre tem você, ali, perdido em meus pensamentos. Eu posso me mudar para a Turquia e viver uma vida completamente diferente e me apaixonar e casar e ter filhos, mas sempre existirá você e é isso que eu gostaria de poder te dizer algum dia, porque no fundo eu não quero me livrar disso. Eu acho bonito e gostaria de alguma forma que você soubesse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Você é como uma doença incurável. Dessas que a gente toma uma série de remédios pra manter ela ali quietinha sem se manifestar, mas a gente sabe que está ali e que em algum momento, quando menos se espera ela vai atacar novamente. Assim é você. E quando você se manifesta, você&amp;nbsp;vem com tudo dentro de cada espaço do meu corpo e se espalha e eu mal consigo dormir porque eu quase consigo te sentir se fechar os olhos. Assim é você.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E aí vejo essas pessoas por aí dizerem que amam e me perguntam se eu já amei alguém algum dia e eu só sorrio por dentro, porque eu amo, assim sem explicação. Eu amo desde que te conheci. E amo o amor e o ato de amar porque você pra mim é o significado de tudo aquilo que os poetas falam.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Não importa que eu não te veja há meses e que a gente se ignore hoje em dia porque foi tudo tão intenso e nós dois sabemos que não temos como voltar sem estragar tudo outra vez. Nós dois sabemos que se tentarmos de novo somos capazes de iniciar uma terceira guerra mundial porque o nosso amor exerce uma força incontrolável sobre nós mesmo e sem pensar tomamos atitudes erradas, sumimos, mentimos e machucamos um ao outro. E eu não tenho mais tempo pra sofrer as cicatrizes que você deixa em mim e por isso&amp;nbsp;eu sei que acabamos para sempre.&amp;nbsp;Não sei se conseguiria seguir em frente com novas feridas abertas. Também não sei o motivo pelo qual fazemos isso e não podemos amar um amor tranquilo e sóbrio. Só sei&amp;nbsp; que meu amor por você, pelo o que representou para mim, pelo olhar que você me dirige até hoje quando a vida faz com que, de repente, demos de cara um com outro e você acha que eu&amp;nbsp;não te vi&amp;nbsp;e pelo o que você é vai ficar comigo pra sempre. E eu não vou ser menos feliz por causa disso.&amp;nbsp;Resignada, eu aceito a minha condição. &amp;nbsp;Não há como não amar o amor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1904117100315138527?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1904117100315138527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1904117100315138527&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1904117100315138527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1904117100315138527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/07/o-que-eu-queria-te-falar.html' title='O que eu queria te falar'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4289856521225149004</id><published>2010-07-25T18:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T18:19:14.839-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;O meu olhar é nítido como um girassol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Tenho o costume de andar pelas estradas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Olhando para a direita e para a esquerda,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;E de vez em quando olhando para trás...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;E o que vejo a cada momento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;É aquilo que nunca antes eu tinha visto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;E eu sei dar por isso muito bem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Sei ter o pasmo essencial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Que tem uma criança se, ao nascer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Reparasse que nascera deveras...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Sinto-me nascido a cada momento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Para a eterna novidade do Mundo... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Creio no mundo como num malmequer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Porque o vejo. Mas não penso nele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Porque pensar é não compreender... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;O Mundo não se fez para pensarmos nele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;(Pensar é estar doente dos olhos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Mas para olharmos para ele e estarmos de acordo... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Eu não tenho filosofia; tenho sentidos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Se falo na Natureza não é porque saiba o que ela é,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Mas porque a amo, e amo-a por isso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Porque quem ama nunca sabe o que ama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Nem sabe por que ama, nem o que é amar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Amar é a eterna inocência,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;E a única inocência não pensar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Alberto Caeiro, em "O Guardador de Rebanhos", 8-3-1914&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/8935670550916490784-4289856521225149004?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4289856521225149004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4289856521225149004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4289856521225149004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4289856521225149004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/07/o-meu-olhar-e-nitido-como-um-girassol.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-150234696240118135</id><published>2010-07-23T00:40:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T00:40:38.536-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh linda!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/TEkPBO9hLEI/AAAAAAAAAbs/YV__68eQN8I/s1600/DSC01162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hw="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/TEkPBO9hLEI/AAAAAAAAAbs/YV__68eQN8I/s320/DSC01162.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Olinda - PE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-150234696240118135?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/150234696240118135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=150234696240118135&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/150234696240118135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/150234696240118135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/07/oh-linda.html' title='Oh linda!'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/TEkPBO9hLEI/AAAAAAAAAbs/YV__68eQN8I/s72-c/DSC01162.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-4970086276847139402</id><published>2010-07-23T00:35:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T00:35:11.428-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>dizem que um verdadeiro amor não morre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4970086276847139402?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4970086276847139402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4970086276847139402&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4970086276847139402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4970086276847139402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/07/dizem-que-um-verdadeiro-amor-nao-morre.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-2460186557504406561</id><published>2010-06-30T16:23:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T21:11:27.623-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Bate outra vez&lt;br /&gt;Com esperanças o meu coração&lt;br /&gt;Pois já vai terminando o verão,&lt;br /&gt;Enfim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volto ao jardim&lt;br /&gt;Com a certeza que devo chorar&lt;br /&gt;Pois bem sei que não queres voltar&lt;br /&gt;Para mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Queixo-me às rosas,&lt;br /&gt;Mas que bobagem&lt;br /&gt;As rosas não falam&lt;br /&gt;Simplesmente as rosas exalam&lt;br /&gt;O perfume que roubam de ti, ai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devias vir&lt;br /&gt;Para ver os meus olhos tristonhos&lt;br /&gt;E, quem sabe, sonhavas meus sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Por fim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- cartola&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-2460186557504406561?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/2460186557504406561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=2460186557504406561&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2460186557504406561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2460186557504406561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/06/bate-outra-vez-com-esperancas-o-meu.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-8689147554011736150</id><published>2010-06-25T21:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T21:57:48.585-03:00</updated><title type='text'>o olho</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu te&amp;nbsp;vejo. Vejo a&amp;nbsp;incerteza em você e muitas dúvidas que podem ser relacionadas a mim e a este meu temperamento, no mínimo, difícil. Enxergo também tuas incertezas, teu medo. Do que é que você tem tanto medo?&amp;nbsp;Fico pensando se eu estou diante de alguém que assim como eu carrega em sua alma todas as cicatrizes passadas. São os seus ombros curvados e em&amp;nbsp;cima deles toda a dor deste mundo.&amp;nbsp;Tu negarias. Sou apenas louca e muito imaginativa. Mas eu te vejo, ou melhor, eu te enxergo. Enxergo toda a tua insegurança que no fundo é um espelho da minha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E&amp;nbsp;o que podemos fazer diante disso?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-8689147554011736150?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/8689147554011736150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=8689147554011736150&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8689147554011736150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8689147554011736150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/06/o-olho.html' title='o olho'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-2402403022309255676</id><published>2010-06-25T21:50:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T21:50:54.972-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pessoal'/><title type='text'>a mar</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;“Eu te amei muito. Nunca disse, como você também não disse, mas acho que você soube. Pena que as grandes e as cucas confusas não saibam amar. Pena também que a gente se envergonhe de dizer, a gente não devia ter vergonha do que é bonito. Penso sempre que um dia a gente vai se encontrar de novo, e que então tudo vai ser mais claro, que não vai mais haver medo nem coisas falsas. Há uma porção de coisas minhas que você não sabe, e que precisaria saber para compreender todas as vezes que fugi de você e voltei e tornei a fugir. São coisas difíceis de serem contadas, mais difíceis talvez de serem compreendidas — se um dia a gente se encontrar de novo, em amor, eu direi delas, caso contrário não será preciso. Essas coisas não pedem resposta nem ressonância alguma em você: eu só queria que você soubesse do muito amor e ternura que eu tinha — e tenho — pra você. Acho que é bom a gente saber que existe desse jeito em alguém, como você existe em mim”.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Caio Fernando Abreu]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-2402403022309255676?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/2402403022309255676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=2402403022309255676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2402403022309255676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2402403022309255676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/06/mar.html' title='a mar'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-3795270727957237988</id><published>2010-05-26T18:48:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T18:49:21.067-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;JOÃO:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Olho Teresa, vejo-a sentada aqui a meu lado, a poucos centímetros da mim. A poucos centímetros, muitos quilômetros. Por que essa impressão de que precisaria de quilômetros para medir a distância, o afastamento em que a vejo nesse momento? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RAIMUNDO:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Maria era a praia que eu freqüentava certas manhãs. Meus gestos indispensáveis que se cumpriam a um ar tão absolutamente livre que ele mesmo determina seus limites, meus gestos simplificados diante de extensões de que uma luz geral aboliu todos os segredos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JOAQUIM:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O amor comeu meu nome, minha identidade, meu retrato. O amor comeu minha certidão de idade, minha genealogia, meu endereço. O amor comeu meus cartões de visita. O amor veio e comeu todos os papéis onde eu escrevera meu nome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Os três mal-amados (1943). In: Poesia completa e prosa. Rio de Janeiro: Nova Aguilar, 2008. p. 35.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-3795270727957237988?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/3795270727957237988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=3795270727957237988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3795270727957237988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3795270727957237988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/05/joao-olho-teresa-vejo-sentada-aqui-meu.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6090956723988577992</id><published>2010-05-23T21:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T21:03:40.646-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>as minhas amigas de infância estão casando. é o sinal de que estou ficando velha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6090956723988577992?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6090956723988577992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6090956723988577992&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6090956723988577992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6090956723988577992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/05/as-minhas-amigas-de-infancia-estao.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-5648307175402826541</id><published>2010-05-22T16:19:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T16:58:20.840-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cat Power</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eu vi! Vi a Cat Power de pertinho ontem, cantando acompanhada somente de uma guitarra e um piano. Teve gente que achou o show parado, eu achei lindo. Só aquela voz ecoando em meus ouvidos e o modo como ela andava tímida pelo palco e párava de tempo em tempo pra tomar o que parecia ser uísque. Meio bêbada, meio sóbria, mas cantando com toda a beleza que só ela tem. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-5648307175402826541?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5648307175402826541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5648307175402826541&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5648307175402826541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5648307175402826541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/05/cat-power.html' title='Cat Power'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6349853899192441364</id><published>2010-05-20T16:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T16:01:16.465-03:00</updated><title type='text'>bom conselho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S_WG4DZjIbI/AAAAAAAAAbk/jRgNAiH7c5s/s1600/stop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473429219681968562" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S_WG4DZjIbI/AAAAAAAAAbk/jRgNAiH7c5s/s400/stop.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/8935670550916490784-6349853899192441364?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6349853899192441364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6349853899192441364&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6349853899192441364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6349853899192441364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/05/bom-conselho.html' title='bom conselho'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S_WG4DZjIbI/AAAAAAAAAbk/jRgNAiH7c5s/s72-c/stop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-3103569510623000443</id><published>2010-05-13T11:26:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T11:27:49.153-03:00</updated><title type='text'>basta um dia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S-wMH4AFvAI/AAAAAAAAAbc/eq4ZFqJIPdA/s1600/chico.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 318px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470760976779688962" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S-wMH4AFvAI/AAAAAAAAAbc/eq4ZFqJIPdA/s400/chico.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pra mim&lt;br /&gt;Basta um dia&lt;br /&gt;Não mais que um dia&lt;br /&gt;Um meio dia&lt;br /&gt;Me dá&lt;br /&gt;Só um dia&lt;br /&gt;E eu faço desatar&lt;br /&gt;A minha fantasia&lt;br /&gt;Só um&lt;br /&gt;Belo dia&lt;br /&gt;Pois se jura, se esconjura&lt;br /&gt;Se ama e se tortura&lt;br /&gt;Se tritura, se atura e se cura&lt;br /&gt;A dor&lt;br /&gt;Na orgia&lt;br /&gt;Da luz do dia&lt;br /&gt;É só&lt;br /&gt;O que eu pedia&lt;br /&gt;Um dia pra aplacar&lt;br /&gt;Minha agonia&lt;br /&gt;Toda a sangria&lt;br /&gt;Todo o veneno&lt;br /&gt;De um pequeno dia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só um&lt;br /&gt;Santo dia&lt;br /&gt;Pois se beija, se maltrata&lt;br /&gt;Se como e se mata&lt;br /&gt;Se arremata, se acata e se trata&lt;br /&gt;A dor&lt;br /&gt;Na orgia&lt;br /&gt;Da luz do dia&lt;br /&gt;É só&lt;br /&gt;O que eu pedia, viu&lt;br /&gt;Um dia pra aplacar&lt;br /&gt;Minha agonia&lt;br /&gt;Toda a sangria&lt;br /&gt;Todo o veneno&lt;br /&gt;De um pequeno dia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-3103569510623000443?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/3103569510623000443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=3103569510623000443&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3103569510623000443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3103569510623000443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/05/pra-mim-basta-um-dia-nao-mais-que-um.html' title='basta um dia'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S-wMH4AFvAI/AAAAAAAAAbc/eq4ZFqJIPdA/s72-c/chico.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-191387848788235712</id><published>2010-05-09T20:08:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T20:13:35.268-03:00</updated><title type='text'>guia para a felicidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The Only Guide to Happiness You’ll Ever Need&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness shouldn’t be something that happens to us in the future, maybe someday, if things go well. Happiness should be here and now, who we are now, with the people we’re with now, doing the things we’re doing now. And if we’re not with people who make us happy, and doing things that make us happy … then we should take action to make that happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.Be present.&lt;/strong&gt; Don’t think about how great things will be in the future. Don’t dwell on what did or didn’t happen in the past. Learn to be in the here and now, and experience life as it’s happening, and appreciate the world for the beauty that it is, right now. Practice makes perfect with this crucial skill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.Connect with others.&lt;/strong&gt; In my experience, very few things can achieve happiness as well as connecting with other human beings, cultivating relationships, bonding with others. Some tips on doing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.Spend time with those you love.&lt;/strong&gt; This might seem almost the same as the item above, and in reality it’s an extension of the same concept, a more specific application. Spending time with the people you love is extremely important to happiness … and yet it’s incredible how often we do just the opposite, and spend time alone, or disconnected from those we love, or spend time with people we don’t much like. Make it a priority to schedule time with the people you love. Make that your most important item of the day. For myself, I have a time when I cut off work, and the rest of the day is for my family. Weekends are exclusively for my family. And by setting aside this sacred time, I ensure my happiness by letting nothing come between me and the people I love most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.Do the things you love.&lt;/strong&gt; What do you love doing most? Figure out the 4-5 things you love doing most in life, the things that make you happiest, and make those the foundation of your day, every day. Eliminate as much of the rest as possible. For me, the things I love doing are: spending time with my family, writing, reading, and running. I do those things every day, and very little else. It may take awhile to get your life down to your essentials like I have (it took me a few years of careful elimination and rescheduling and saying “no” to requests that aren’t on my short list), but it’s worth the effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5.Focus on the good things&lt;/strong&gt;. Everyone’s life has positive and negative aspects — whether you’re happy or not depends largely on which aspects you focus on. Did you lose today’s softball game? At least you got to spend time with friends doing something fun. Did you sprain your ankle running? Well, your body probably needed a week’s rest anyway, as you were running too much! Did your baby get sick? Well, at least it’s only a flu virus and nothing life-threatening … and at least you have a wonderful baby to nurse to health! You can see my point — almost everything has a positive side, and focusing on the positives make all the difference. My Auntie Kerry died last week (as you know), and I’m still grieving, but 1) I’m happy I spent time with her before her death; 2) her death has brought our family closer together; 3) her suffering has ended; and 4) it reminded me to spend more time with the people I love while they’re still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6.Do work you love.&lt;/strong&gt; An extension, of course, of doing the things you love, but applied to work. Are you already doing the work you love? Then you’re one of the lucky ones, and you should appreciate how lucky you are. If you aren’t doing the work you love, you should make it a priority to try to find work you’re passionate about, and to steer your career in that direction. Take myself for example: I was doing work that I was good at (just last year), but that I wasn’t passionate about. I was passionate about writing, and so I pursued blogging … and with a year of hard work, was able to quit my day job and blog full time. I’m so much happier these days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7.Lose yourself in your work&lt;/strong&gt;. Once you’ve found work you love, the key is to lose yourself in it … clear away all distractions, find an interesting and challenging task, and just pour all your energy and focus into that task. With practice, you’ll forget about the outside world. There are few work-related joys that equal this feeling. Read more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8.Help others&lt;/strong&gt;. Is there any better feeling than helping a fellow human being? There aren’t many. And it’s not too hard — here are 25 ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9.Find time for peace.&lt;/strong&gt; With the hectic pace of life these days, it’s hard to find a moment of peace. But if you can make time for solitude and quiet, it can be one of the happiest parts of your day. Here’s how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10.Notice the small things.&lt;/strong&gt; Instead of waiting for the big things to happen — marriage, kids, house, nice car, big promotion, winning the lottery — find happiness in the small things that happen every day. Little things like having a quiet cup of coffee in the early morning hours, or the delicious and simple taste of berries, or the pleasure of reading a book with your child, or taking a walk with your partner. Noticing these small pleasures, throughout your day, makes a huge difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11.Develop compassion&lt;/strong&gt;. Compassion is developing a sense of shared suffering with others … and taking steps to alleviate the suffering of others. I think too often we forget about the suffering of others while focusing on our own suffering, and if we learned to share the suffering of others, our suffering would seem insignificant as a result. Compassion is an extremely valuable skill to learn, and you get better with practice. Here’s how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12.Be grateful&lt;/strong&gt;. Learning to be grateful for what’s in our lives, for the people who have enriched our lives, goes a long way toward happiness. It helps us to appreciate what we have and what we have received, and the people who have helped us. Read more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13.Become a lifelong learner&lt;/strong&gt;. I find an inordinate amount of pleasure in reading, in learning about new things, in enriching my knowledge as I get older. I think spending time reading some of the classics, as well as passionately pursuing new interests, is energy well invested. Try to do a little of it every day, and see if it doesn’t make you happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14.Simplify your life.&lt;/strong&gt; This is really about identifying the things you love (see above) and then eliminating everything else as much as possible. By simplifying your life in this way, you create time for your happiness, and you reduce the stress and chaos in your life. In my experience, living a very simple life is also a pleasure in itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15.Slow down.&lt;/strong&gt; Similar to simplifying, slowing down is just a matter of reminding yourself that there’s no need to rush through life. Schedule less things on your calendar, and more space between things. Learn to eat slower, drive slower, walk slower (unless you’re doing it for exercise). Going slowly helps to reduce stress, and improve the pleasure of doing things, and keeps you in the present moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16.Exercise.&lt;/strong&gt; I’ve written about the pleasures of exercise many times. It can be hard to start an exercise program (here’s how) but once you get going, it relieves stress and can really give you a good feeling. I feel joyful every time I go out for a run!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;17.Meditate&lt;/strong&gt;. You don’t need to join a Zendo or get a mat or learn any lotus positions, but the simplest form of meditation can really help you to be present and to get out of the worrying part of your head. You can do it right now: close your eyes and simply try to focus on your breathing as long as possible. Pay attention to the breath as it comes into your body, and then as it goes out. When you feel your mind start to wander, don’t fret, but just simply acknowledge the other thoughts, and then return to your breathing. Do this a little each day and you’ll get better at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18.Learn to accept&lt;/strong&gt;. One of the challenges for people like me — people who want to improve themselves and change the world — is learning to accept things as they are. Sometimes it’s better to learn to accept, and to love, the world as it is, and people as they are, rather than to try to make everything and everyone conform to an impossible ideal. I’m not saying you should accept cruelty and injustice, but learn to love things when they are less than “perfect”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;19.Spend time in nature&lt;/strong&gt;. Go outside and take a walk each day, or take the time to watch a sunset or sunrise. Or find a body of water — the ocean, a lake, a river, a pond — and spend time taking a look at it, contemplating it. If you’re lucky enough to live near some woods, or a mountain, or a canyon, go hiking. Time in nature is time invested in your happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;20.Find the miracles in life&lt;/strong&gt;. I absolutely believe in miracles, and believe that they are all around us, every day. My children are all miracles. The kindnesses of strangers are miracles. The life growing all around us is a miracle. Find those miracles in your life, and enjoy the majesty of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;via &lt;a href="http://donttouchmymoleskine.com/um-guia-para-a-felicidade/"&gt;don't touch my moleskine&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-191387848788235712?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/191387848788235712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=191387848788235712&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/191387848788235712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/191387848788235712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/05/guia-para-felicidade.html' title='guia para a felicidade'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-5148584394784323006</id><published>2010-05-09T18:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T18:25:53.830-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Quanta ansiedade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-5148584394784323006?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5148584394784323006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5148584394784323006&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5148584394784323006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5148584394784323006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/05/quanta-ansiedade.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1297325642118593498</id><published>2010-05-03T20:51:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T20:52:19.942-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mixtape'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><title type='text'>Depois de tanto amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;É será melhor&lt;br /&gt;Não procurar&lt;br /&gt;Um novo amor&lt;br /&gt;Até saber&lt;br /&gt;Se o coração&lt;br /&gt;Já se refez&lt;br /&gt;É será melhor&lt;br /&gt;Viver em paz&lt;br /&gt;Eu amei estando só&lt;br /&gt;Portanto a solidão&lt;br /&gt;Não é demais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se algum dia eu encontrar&lt;br /&gt;Um novo amor&lt;br /&gt;Hei de ter amor pra dar&lt;br /&gt;Amor e paz&lt;br /&gt;Por isso eu vou&lt;br /&gt;Guardar meu peito&lt;br /&gt;Até quando por direito&lt;br /&gt;Este amor chegar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Paulinho da Viola &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1297325642118593498?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1297325642118593498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1297325642118593498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1297325642118593498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1297325642118593498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/05/depois-de-tanto-amor.html' title='Depois de tanto amor'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6324334149850005754</id><published>2010-05-01T21:37:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T14:29:46.208-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Enquanto eu tiver pessoas como a Gabe e a Hiza na minha vida, eu ainda vou ter esperança no mundo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6324334149850005754?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6324334149850005754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6324334149850005754&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6324334149850005754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6324334149850005754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/05/enquanto-eu-tiver-pessoas-como-gabe-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4042127844793125193</id><published>2010-04-30T11:53:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T11:55:54.595-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cinema'/><title type='text'>um bom filme para uma sexta-feira chuvosa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S9rvMaJJIZI/AAAAAAAAAa0/DdwBDQEsiPY/s1600/The_Graduate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 368px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465944094222655890" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S9rvMaJJIZI/AAAAAAAAAa0/DdwBDQEsiPY/s400/The_Graduate.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The Graduate (1967)&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/8935670550916490784-4042127844793125193?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4042127844793125193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4042127844793125193&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4042127844793125193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4042127844793125193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/um-bom-filme-para-uma-sexta-feira.html' title='um bom filme para uma sexta-feira chuvosa'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S9rvMaJJIZI/AAAAAAAAAa0/DdwBDQEsiPY/s72-c/The_Graduate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-6680045257016894480</id><published>2010-04-30T11:49:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T11:52:47.401-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;adoro sentir saudade das pessoas. eu sei o quanto elas me são importantes quando o coração chega a ficar miúdo ao lembrar do rosto de vocês.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6680045257016894480?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6680045257016894480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6680045257016894480&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6680045257016894480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6680045257016894480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/adoro-sentir-saudade-das-pessoas.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1247452501270115180</id><published>2010-04-30T11:46:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T11:48:59.750-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>queria muito ouvir um "sim".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1247452501270115180?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1247452501270115180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1247452501270115180&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1247452501270115180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1247452501270115180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/queria-muito-ouvir-um-sim.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-5456985782592148264</id><published>2010-04-26T00:33:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T00:42:44.223-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"amigo é coisa pra se guardar"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;show do Milton Nascimento. eu e meus amigos amados em um momento somos bêbados e felizes nos abraçando ao som de "Canção da América" e cantando junto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;não sei não, mas isso soa como uma definição de felicidade pra mim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-5456985782592148264?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5456985782592148264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5456985782592148264&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5456985782592148264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5456985782592148264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/cancao-da-america.html' title='&quot;amigo é coisa pra se guardar&quot;'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4380635633017078431</id><published>2010-04-24T23:28:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T23:31:11.660-03:00</updated><title type='text'>me disseram hoje</title><content type='html'>sobre relacionamentos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"você tem essa pinta de doidinha, mas você é suuuuper recatada."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4380635633017078431?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4380635633017078431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4380635633017078431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4380635633017078431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4380635633017078431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/me-disseram-hoje.html' title='me disseram hoje'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4987911801294271393</id><published>2010-04-24T23:22:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T23:27:58.731-03:00</updated><title type='text'>metáfora do carro</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;só eu que faço listas de prós e contras? sou tão estranha assim? ah, vá. pra mim é como comprar um carro. precisa analisar bem, ver as vantagens e desvantagens do modelo, se tem como sustentar o que vem junto com o carro como o seguro e revisão. e isso leva tempo, não é assim de uma hora pra outra. e ninguém tem paciência. todo mundo desiste. "A Dre é neurótica". Todo mundo fala isso o tempo todo. Quer saber? Sou mesmo, porque quando eu escolher eu quero um que eu saiba que vá durar um boooom tempo. Não quero trocar daqui a pouco por um modelo mais novo. Entendeu? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4987911801294271393?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4987911801294271393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4987911801294271393&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4987911801294271393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4987911801294271393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/metafora-do-carro.html' title='metáfora do carro'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-5037279564348408816</id><published>2010-04-24T23:10:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T23:19:45.650-03:00</updated><title type='text'>woody me entenderia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eu lembrei daquela velha piada, sabe? O cara vai ao psiquiatra e diz "Acho que o meu irmão enlouqueceu, ele pensa que é uma galinha, doutor". "Por que você não o interna?" perguntou o médico. E o cara responde "pois é, mas eu preciso dos ovos." Então eu acho que é mais ou menos assim que vejo os relacionamentos, eles são totalmente irracionais, loucos, absurdos, mas a gente continua tentando porque precisa dos ovos."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woody Allen, em Annie Hall (Noivo Neurótico, Noiva Nervosa - 1977)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-5037279564348408816?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5037279564348408816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5037279564348408816&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5037279564348408816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5037279564348408816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/woody-me-entenderia.html' title='woody me entenderia'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-8693544608368382644</id><published>2010-04-24T20:54:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T20:54:23.715-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>tenho saído tanto que já me sinto íntima da madrugada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-8693544608368382644?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/8693544608368382644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=8693544608368382644&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8693544608368382644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8693544608368382644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/tenho-saido-tanto-que-ja-me-sinto.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6820841912691259412</id><published>2010-04-24T20:46:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T20:53:17.912-03:00</updated><title type='text'>oh l'amour!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 158px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463855514593256578" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S9ODpEtj5II/AAAAAAAAAaM/8v2ikOtpgTs/s400/lamour.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 158px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463855999277601922" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S9OEFSTUFII/AAAAAAAAAaU/As44zGgDPsw/s400/lamour2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 162px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463856001745941426" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S9OEFbfz87I/AAAAAAAAAac/EelY5MxzIc0/s400/lamour3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S9OEFr1T78I/AAAAAAAAAak/Fw_1cB6yCbo/s1600/lamour4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 162px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463856006131085250" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S9OEFr1T78I/AAAAAAAAAak/Fw_1cB6yCbo/s400/lamour4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6820841912691259412?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6820841912691259412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6820841912691259412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6820841912691259412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6820841912691259412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/oh-lamour.html' title='oh l&apos;amour!'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S9ODpEtj5II/AAAAAAAAAaM/8v2ikOtpgTs/s72-c/lamour.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-8051889739617376154</id><published>2010-04-21T22:43:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T22:47:51.661-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cinema'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S8-qOZaNtGI/AAAAAAAAAaE/8FDNbAK1fSw/s1600/jeanne_moreau_jules_et_jim_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 231px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462772037339427938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S8-qOZaNtGI/AAAAAAAAAaE/8FDNbAK1fSw/s400/jeanne_moreau_jules_et_jim_2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jules et Jim (François Truffaut, 1962)&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/8935670550916490784-8051889739617376154?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/8051889739617376154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=8051889739617376154&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8051889739617376154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8051889739617376154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/jules-et-jim-ffrancois-truffaut-1962.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S8-qOZaNtGI/AAAAAAAAAaE/8FDNbAK1fSw/s72-c/jeanne_moreau_jules_et_jim_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-5567729142276448138</id><published>2010-04-21T20:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T20:16:15.642-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;"eu te darei o céu meu bem e o meu amor também."&lt;/blockquote&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-5567729142276448138?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5567729142276448138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5567729142276448138&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5567729142276448138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5567729142276448138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/eu-te-darei-o-ceu-meu-bem-e-o-meu-amor.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4228087384819807266</id><published>2010-04-21T18:15:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T18:18:13.402-03:00</updated><title type='text'>maracangalha</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;coisas que me fazem feliz: ir em uma festa e ouvir Secos e Molhados seguido de Novos Baianos. dançar até o dia raiar. cantar músicas do Roberto Carlos fazendo a dancinha sem medo de ser feliz. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4228087384819807266?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4228087384819807266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4228087384819807266&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4228087384819807266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4228087384819807266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/maracangalha.html' title='maracangalha'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-124288351111916934</id><published>2010-04-18T17:05:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T17:06:06.288-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;poucas coisas nessa vida me dão mais felicidade do que os filmes do Woody Allen. Por uma hora ou duas, eu tenho a impressão de que sou normal e o mundo é feito de pessoas neuróticas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-124288351111916934?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/124288351111916934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=124288351111916934&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/124288351111916934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/124288351111916934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/poucas-coisas-nessa-vida-me-dao-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4372599032689020425</id><published>2010-04-17T14:51:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T14:53:59.986-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lapa</title><content type='html'>chegar de manhã em casa feliz e cansada depois de uma noite querida com os amigos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4372599032689020425?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4372599032689020425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4372599032689020425&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4372599032689020425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4372599032689020425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/lapa.html' title='Lapa'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-7306914971239129307</id><published>2010-04-17T14:49:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T14:51:04.996-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;nunca vou entender esse desespero das pessoas com relação ao relacionamento. parece que mais importante do que gostar de verdade, é o fato de você estar com alguém. as pessoas tem medo de ficarem sozinhas e se agarram umas as outras de uma forma desesperada. sem contar que tem que mostrar pra todo mundo o mais novo relacionamento eterno de duas semanas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;vai pra terapia, gente. compra um cachorro, sei lá.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-7306914971239129307?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/7306914971239129307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=7306914971239129307&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7306914971239129307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7306914971239129307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/nunca-vou-entender-esse-desespero-das.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6129981866480922227</id><published>2010-04-15T17:09:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T17:11:16.499-03:00</updated><title type='text'>os muitos ais</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Aí&lt;br /&gt;ai = dor&lt;br /&gt;ai ai = amor&lt;br /&gt;ai ai ai = preocupação&lt;br /&gt;ai ai ai ai = música sertaneja&lt;br /&gt;ai ai ai ai ai = música mexicana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luciana Elaiuy, &lt;a href="http://www.revistapiaui.com.br/edicao_43/artigo_1290/A_mentira_tem_pernas_lindas.aspx"&gt;na Piauí deste mês&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;via &lt;a href="http://donttouchmymoleskine.com/"&gt;donttouchmymoleskine.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6129981866480922227?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6129981866480922227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6129981866480922227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6129981866480922227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6129981866480922227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/ai-ai-dor-ai-ai-amor-ai-ai-ai.html' title='os muitos ais'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-2851080804628001928</id><published>2010-04-15T15:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T15:44:00.285-03:00</updated><title type='text'>um bom conselho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S8deRpUI47I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/CjEiMEMOHv4/s1600/icecream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 142px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460436730451125170" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S8deRpUI47I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/CjEiMEMOHv4/s400/icecream.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.medeumconselho.com.br/"&gt;www.medeumconselho.com.br&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-2851080804628001928?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/2851080804628001928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=2851080804628001928&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2851080804628001928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2851080804628001928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/um-bom-conselho.html' title='um bom conselho'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S8deRpUI47I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/CjEiMEMOHv4/s72-c/icecream.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-1909354081981810778</id><published>2010-04-13T22:06:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T22:06:43.680-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>estou tão gorda que tenho preguiça só de pensar em começar a me exercitar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1909354081981810778?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1909354081981810778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1909354081981810778&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1909354081981810778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1909354081981810778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/estou-tao-gorda-que-tenho-preguica-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4539368687785249385</id><published>2010-04-13T22:00:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T22:05:23.657-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>é uma pena perceber que certas pessoas estão como umas daquelas roupas que você vai doar porque sabe que não vai usar mais.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4539368687785249385?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4539368687785249385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4539368687785249385&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4539368687785249385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4539368687785249385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/e-uma-pena-perceber-que-certas-pessoas.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-5076186552920100054</id><published>2010-04-13T21:57:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T22:00:35.782-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;outro dia olhei meu armário cheio de roupas hippies e pensei: vou dar tudo. cada fase que a gente passa, viu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-5076186552920100054?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5076186552920100054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5076186552920100054&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5076186552920100054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5076186552920100054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/outro-dia-olhei-meu-armario-cheio-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-7375170765928985956</id><published>2010-04-10T11:36:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T11:40:01.555-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S8CNPdEKweI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/TLJsBT9xImE/s1600/500-days-of-summer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 243px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458518045012705762" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S8CNPdEKweI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/TLJsBT9xImE/s400/500-days-of-summer.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;motivos para amar o filme:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1 -&lt;/strong&gt; uma cena gravada em loja de cd/vinil&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2 -&lt;/strong&gt; a camiseta do Joy Division&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3 -&lt;/strong&gt; trilha sonora maravilhosa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-7375170765928985956?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/7375170765928985956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=7375170765928985956&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7375170765928985956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7375170765928985956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/motivos-para-amar-o-filme-1-uma-cena.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S8CNPdEKweI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/TLJsBT9xImE/s72-c/500-days-of-summer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-7903799675746558241</id><published>2010-04-10T11:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T11:35:33.209-03:00</updated><title type='text'>lovely</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S8CMpo0PtBI/AAAAAAAAAZs/ZQqeELFZ27g/s1600/belleandsebastian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458517395332117522" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S8CMpo0PtBI/AAAAAAAAAZs/ZQqeELFZ27g/s400/belleandsebastian.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/8935670550916490784-7903799675746558241?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/7903799675746558241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=7903799675746558241&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7903799675746558241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7903799675746558241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/lovely.html' title='lovely'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S8CMpo0PtBI/AAAAAAAAAZs/ZQqeELFZ27g/s72-c/belleandsebastian.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-1677852364028623984</id><published>2010-04-10T11:22:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T11:29:41.111-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;me sinto como a Summer de "500 days of summer", meu blog até um mês atrás se chamava "Stop me, if you think you've heard this one before", uma das minhas músicas preferidas do The Smiths. tenho vários cds gravados do Belle and Sebastian que escutava quando estava sozinha em casa pra ninguém reclamar que era muito deprê. vai ver é por isso que eu sou assim, melancólica.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1677852364028623984?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1677852364028623984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1677852364028623984&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1677852364028623984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1677852364028623984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/me-sinto-como-summer-de-500-days-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-3331027003858630004</id><published>2010-04-10T11:19:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T11:21:55.403-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;acordar cedo sábado de manhã e receber a notícia de que Cat Power toca dia 21 de maio no Circo Voador. um verdadeiro presente. melhor, só se alguém me contasse que o belle and sebastian vai tocar no Brasil. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-3331027003858630004?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/3331027003858630004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=3331027003858630004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3331027003858630004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3331027003858630004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/acordar-cedo-sabado-de-manha-e-receber.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-8090716459109367819</id><published>2010-04-08T15:30:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T15:33:07.833-03:00</updated><title type='text'>a bela</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S74g17fa3VI/AAAAAAAAAZk/S0wx7cmKSJ4/s1600/volver.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 279px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457835909294251346" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S74g17fa3VI/AAAAAAAAAZk/S0wx7cmKSJ4/s400/volver.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Volver, Pedro Almodóvar (2006)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-8090716459109367819?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/8090716459109367819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=8090716459109367819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8090716459109367819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8090716459109367819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/bela.html' title='a bela'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S74g17fa3VI/AAAAAAAAAZk/S0wx7cmKSJ4/s72-c/volver.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-2128566710002381654</id><published>2010-04-08T11:54:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T11:56:05.076-03:00</updated><title type='text'>filme para um dia chuvoso</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S73uKPle74I/AAAAAAAAAZc/wQ4olUrIf90/s1600/fellini8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 289px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457780183192760194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S73uKPle74I/AAAAAAAAAZc/wQ4olUrIf90/s400/fellini8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oito e meio, de Federico Fellini (1963)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-2128566710002381654?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/2128566710002381654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=2128566710002381654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2128566710002381654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2128566710002381654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/filme-para-um-dia-chuvoso.html' title='filme para um dia chuvoso'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S73uKPle74I/AAAAAAAAAZc/wQ4olUrIf90/s72-c/fellini8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-2655134743709594738</id><published>2010-04-08T08:44:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T08:44:58.331-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"You better run for your life if you can, little girl."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-2655134743709594738?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/2655134743709594738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=2655134743709594738&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2655134743709594738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2655134743709594738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/you-better-run-for-your-life-if-you-can.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-8504075867979792866</id><published>2010-04-06T13:00:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T13:02:29.017-03:00</updated><title type='text'>dia de São Pedro</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;o dia em que o Rio de Janeiro amanheceu debaixo d'água.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-8504075867979792866?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/8504075867979792866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=8504075867979792866&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8504075867979792866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8504075867979792866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/o-dia-em-que-o-rio-de-janeiro-acordou.html' title='dia de São Pedro'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-9139103241507914201</id><published>2010-04-04T19:15:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T08:46:12.885-03:00</updated><title type='text'>feriado</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;amigos reunidos, dvd do nação zumbi. virar a noite. ressaca. arrumar malas. friburgo. frio. amigos. família. vinho. strudel de maçã. vinho. caminhadas. contos de história de terror. chocolate. chegar em casa. preguiça. mc cheddar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&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/8935670550916490784-9139103241507914201?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/9139103241507914201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=9139103241507914201&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/9139103241507914201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/9139103241507914201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/feriado.html' title='feriado'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1098067416133243580</id><published>2010-04-01T16:54:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T16:55:31.501-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S7T6JPLVKDI/AAAAAAAAAZU/s_t8AEITQII/s1600/manray1-big.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 315px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455260085252335666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S7T6JPLVKDI/AAAAAAAAAZU/s_t8AEITQII/s400/manray1-big.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Man Ray&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1098067416133243580?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1098067416133243580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1098067416133243580&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1098067416133243580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1098067416133243580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/04/man-ray.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S7T6JPLVKDI/AAAAAAAAAZU/s_t8AEITQII/s72-c/manray1-big.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-7013983959465649039</id><published>2010-03-31T18:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T18:54:12.883-03:00</updated><title type='text'>terça-feira</title><content type='html'>dez amigos e uma conta de 150 reais em cerveja.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-7013983959465649039?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/7013983959465649039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=7013983959465649039&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7013983959465649039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7013983959465649039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/terca-feira.html' title='terça-feira'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-7371768179830474189</id><published>2010-03-31T18:44:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T18:51:16.635-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;meu sexto sentido sempre acerta quando se trata de descobrir pessoas apaixonadas. todas elas negam, dizem que eu estou inventando, mas eu sempre acerto. eu noto o nervosismo que antes não existia quando a pessoa chega e como você caprichou no lápis de olho em plena terça de manhã. de repente, a pessoa não tem mais coragem de ligar à toa sem gaguejar e ficar corada. liga você, dre - ela diria.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;é engraçado, mas já acertei somente lendo recados de orkut. meu irmão pergunta como sempre acerto. fácil, é só pensar no óbvio. as pessoas são iguais e quando apaixonadas simplesmente contagiam tudo com o amor que sentem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-7371768179830474189?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/7371768179830474189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=7371768179830474189&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7371768179830474189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7371768179830474189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/meu-sexto-sentido-sempre-acerta-quando.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-3227966473736454713</id><published>2010-03-31T18:36:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T18:42:34.459-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;uma  vez me disseram que eu sou como uma fênix e das cinzas sempre consigo me regenerar. cada vez melhor. eu acredito. aqui estou eu me regenerando novamente e tudo em minha volta voltou a ser colorido. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-3227966473736454713?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/3227966473736454713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=3227966473736454713&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3227966473736454713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3227966473736454713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/uma-vez-me-disseram-que-eu-sou-como-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6856840588791293898</id><published>2010-03-28T18:40:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T18:44:51.102-03:00</updated><title type='text'>an education</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6_NkGJy6bI/AAAAAAAAAY4/qdvp1oGrviM/s1600/h.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453803693779642802" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6_NkGJy6bI/AAAAAAAAAY4/qdvp1oGrviM/s400/h.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nick Hornby, me liga pra tomar um café qualquer dia desses.&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/8935670550916490784-6856840588791293898?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6856840588791293898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6856840588791293898&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6856840588791293898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6856840588791293898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/education.html' title='an education'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S6_NkGJy6bI/AAAAAAAAAY4/qdvp1oGrviM/s72-c/h.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-1473523307599217445</id><published>2010-03-28T18:39:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T18:40:12.360-03:00</updated><title type='text'>cinematheque</title><content type='html'>acordar de delineador borrado às quatro da tarde de domingo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1473523307599217445?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1473523307599217445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1473523307599217445&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1473523307599217445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1473523307599217445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/cinematheque.html' title='cinematheque'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-3698797264315897630</id><published>2010-03-28T18:35:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T18:37:54.047-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Rosa de Ouro é o melhor boteco custo/benefício de Botafogo. Gente bonita e cerveja barata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-3698797264315897630?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/3698797264315897630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=3698797264315897630&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3698797264315897630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3698797264315897630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/rosa-de-ouro-e-o-melhor-boteco.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1450411191732823572</id><published>2010-03-27T12:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T12:55:21.879-03:00</updated><title type='text'>it's saturday night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S64qMsMtL6I/AAAAAAAAAYw/LSVcsFoRHh8/s1600/havingfun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 297px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453342596303499170" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S64qMsMtL6I/AAAAAAAAAYw/LSVcsFoRHh8/s400/havingfun.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; we should have some fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1450411191732823572?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1450411191732823572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1450411191732823572&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1450411191732823572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1450411191732823572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-saturday-night.html' title='it&apos;s saturday night'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S64qMsMtL6I/AAAAAAAAAYw/LSVcsFoRHh8/s72-c/havingfun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-1302258420024745401</id><published>2010-03-27T12:50:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T12:51:03.203-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>queria saber fotografar &lt;a href="http://www.osdias.interludio.net/"&gt;assim&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1302258420024745401?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1302258420024745401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1302258420024745401&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1302258420024745401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1302258420024745401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/queria-saber-fotografar-assim.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6684480359694714458</id><published>2010-03-26T20:02:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T20:04:01.626-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S609Hjx7k7I/AAAAAAAAAYg/LC4sCFfe8a0/s1600/CANTAR~1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 236px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453081923888583602" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S609Hjx7k7I/AAAAAAAAAYg/LC4sCFfe8a0/s320/CANTAR~1.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Rã&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couro de cor&lt;br /&gt;Sombra de som de cor&lt;br /&gt;De malmequer&lt;br /&gt;De malmequer de bem&lt;br /&gt;De bem me diz&lt;br /&gt;De me dizendo assim, serei feliz&lt;br /&gt;Serei feliz de flor&lt;br /&gt;De flor em flor&lt;br /&gt;De samba em samba em som&lt;br /&gt;De vai e vem&lt;br /&gt;De ver de verde ver&lt;br /&gt;Pé de capim&lt;br /&gt;Bico de pena, piu de bem-te-vi&lt;br /&gt;Amanhecendo assim perto de mim&lt;br /&gt;Perto da claridade da manhã&lt;br /&gt;A grama, a lama, tudo&lt;br /&gt;A minha irmã&lt;br /&gt;A rã, o sapo, o salto de uma rã. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6684480359694714458?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6684480359694714458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6684480359694714458&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6684480359694714458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6684480359694714458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/ra-couro-de-cor-sombra-de-som-de-cor-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S609Hjx7k7I/AAAAAAAAAYg/LC4sCFfe8a0/s72-c/CANTAR~1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-4973986212294317960</id><published>2010-03-26T19:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T19:45:05.460-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>em mim sempre será &lt;br /&gt;o outono.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4973986212294317960?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4973986212294317960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4973986212294317960&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4973986212294317960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4973986212294317960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/em-mim-sempre-sera-o-outono.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1547922867152428205</id><published>2010-03-26T19:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T19:32:07.476-03:00</updated><title type='text'>saravá!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S601vWEo1AI/AAAAAAAAAYY/Uee4tp1Atlk/s1600/darci.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 223px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453073811310695426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S601vWEo1AI/AAAAAAAAAYY/Uee4tp1Atlk/s320/darci.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; salve, Mestre Darcy!&lt;br /&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/8935670550916490784-1547922867152428205?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1547922867152428205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1547922867152428205&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1547922867152428205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1547922867152428205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/sarava.html' title='saravá!'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S601vWEo1AI/AAAAAAAAAYY/Uee4tp1Atlk/s72-c/darci.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-640169571697129189</id><published>2010-03-24T22:26:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T15:59:36.501-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"ando devagar porque já tive pressa e levo este sorriso porque já chorei demais."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-640169571697129189?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/640169571697129189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=640169571697129189&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/640169571697129189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/640169571697129189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/ando-devagar-porque-ja-tive-pressa-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-8741657297944534255</id><published>2010-03-24T16:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T16:52:33.903-03:00</updated><title type='text'>dança da chuva</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;senhorita chuva&lt;br /&gt;me concede a honra&lt;br /&gt;desta contradança&lt;br /&gt;e vamos sair&lt;br /&gt;por esses campos&lt;br /&gt;ao som desta chuva&lt;br /&gt;que cai sobre o teclado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paulo Leminski &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-8741657297944534255?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/8741657297944534255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=8741657297944534255&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8741657297944534255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8741657297944534255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/danca-da-chuva.html' title='dança da chuva'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-3027852542041931491</id><published>2010-03-23T19:49:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T20:53:54.779-03:00</updated><title type='text'>quero usar minúsculas em início de post</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;quero tomar café da manhã na Confeitaria Colombo, caminhar nas ruas do Rio Antigo numa tarde de sábado. parar na Ouvidor e ouvir uma roda de choro. pedir uma Original pro garçom que chamo pelo nome. sorrir. voltar de barcas e escolher um lugar na janela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cansei de dormir de delineador nos olhos às sete da manhã. de luzes escuras e gente esbarrando em você. 24 hours party people. não mais. fiquei velha?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-3027852542041931491?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/3027852542041931491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=3027852542041931491&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3027852542041931491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3027852542041931491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/o-peso-da-idade.html' title='quero usar minúsculas em início de post'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-5679881376555958860</id><published>2010-03-23T19:46:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T19:55:00.355-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;tem dias que é tudo tão difícil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-5679881376555958860?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5679881376555958860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5679881376555958860&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5679881376555958860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5679881376555958860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/tem-dias-que-e-tudo-tao-dificil.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-3403013770783378528</id><published>2010-03-22T19:52:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T20:57:46.899-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Quando a gente tá contente, tanto faz o quente, tanto faz o frio."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6f0vKpDYQI/AAAAAAAAAYM/Vf8-cNiX__Y/s1600-h/0002874,cantar.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Apaixonadíssima por esse CD da Gal Costa de 1974. Em tempo de dias difíceis, a Gal e sua voz pura e clara chega ao meu ouvido cantando coisas que me lembram dias azuis e felizes. Melhor dica do mundo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;E assim os dias vão passando. Devagarzinho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-3403013770783378528?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/3403013770783378528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=3403013770783378528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3403013770783378528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3403013770783378528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/quando-gente-ta-contente-tanto-faz-o.html' title='&quot;Quando a gente tá contente, tanto faz o quente, tanto faz o frio.&quot;'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4717197876819391861</id><published>2010-03-21T13:02:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T13:04:48.694-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O céu e o som</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;No caminho do céu&lt;br /&gt;No caminho do som&lt;br /&gt;O caminho do céu é&lt;br /&gt;O caminho do som&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a cantar&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a voar&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a cantar amor&lt;br /&gt;Voar, voar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a cantar&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a voar&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a cantar amor&lt;br /&gt;Uma alma na asa, no ar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a voar&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a cantar&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a voar amor&lt;br /&gt;Cantar, cantar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a cantar&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a voar&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a cantar amor&lt;br /&gt;Voar, voar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem foi que disse que mulher não voa? &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="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Gal Costa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4717197876819391861?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4717197876819391861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4717197876819391861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4717197876819391861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4717197876819391861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/o-ceu-e-o-som.html' title='O céu e o som'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-5219721744845705755</id><published>2010-03-19T19:56:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T19:57:22.082-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I'm afraid of love.&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/8935670550916490784-5219721744845705755?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5219721744845705755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5219721744845705755&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5219721744845705755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5219721744845705755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-afraid-of-love.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4002134697648584206</id><published>2010-03-19T19:48:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T19:55:04.325-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ando me apaixonando por qualquer sorriso sincero. um homem que simplesmente sorri pra você espontaneamente sem motivo algum, acaba fazendo o meu dia valer a pena.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4002134697648584206?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4002134697648584206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4002134697648584206&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4002134697648584206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4002134697648584206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/ando-me-apaixonando-por-qualquer.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1574763331033692531</id><published>2010-03-19T19:47:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T19:48:44.696-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;tem vezes que tudo é tão simples que parece complicado. tudo o que você queria em um fim de semana em que você está resfriada era alguém pra tomar conta de você.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1574763331033692531?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1574763331033692531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1574763331033692531&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1574763331033692531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1574763331033692531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/tem-vezes-que-tudo-e-tao-simples-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-8632043419685586570</id><published>2010-03-19T19:43:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T19:58:48.371-03:00</updated><title type='text'>things to love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-ccktb1I/AAAAAAAAAYA/s4UudUGbM2w/s1600-h/love3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 207px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450479738708389714" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-ccktb1I/AAAAAAAAAYA/s4UudUGbM2w/s320/love3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-cCyC2gI/AAAAAAAAAX4/FJUjYKz0DVM/s1600-h/love1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450479731784997378" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-cCyC2gI/AAAAAAAAAX4/FJUjYKz0DVM/s320/love1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-btSZp9I/AAAAAAAAAXw/F7wQnwJWIKo/s1600-h/love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450479726015129554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-btSZp9I/AAAAAAAAAXw/F7wQnwJWIKo/s320/love.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-bOGAyQI/AAAAAAAAAXo/fieH_SqgqXg/s1600-h/tumblr_kxjnrmTY3b1qzh19go1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450479717641668866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-bOGAyQI/AAAAAAAAAXo/fieH_SqgqXg/s320/tumblr_kxjnrmTY3b1qzh19go1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; thank you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-ayepJzI/AAAAAAAAAXg/kDm3lbyu-Mw/s1600-h/tumblr_kxnee5OUrB1qzh19go1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 284px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450479710228784946" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-ayepJzI/AAAAAAAAAXg/kDm3lbyu-Mw/s320/tumblr_kxnee5OUrB1qzh19go1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/8935670550916490784-8632043419685586570?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/8632043419685586570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=8632043419685586570&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8632043419685586570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/8632043419685586570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/things-to-love.html' title='things to love'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/S6P-ccktb1I/AAAAAAAAAYA/s4UudUGbM2w/s72-c/love3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-1537195594123575863</id><published>2010-03-06T00:02:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T00:05:04.087-03:00</updated><title type='text'>E eu com isso?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Odeio essa galera que fica forçando a barra pra se fazer presente na sua vida. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Odeio esses caras que quando são ignorados saem por aí dizendo que você tá apaixonada por eles e coisa pior.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Odeio falsa amiga que sabe que você sabe que ela não é sua amiga, mas te obriga a fingir que é.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Na boa, queria mandar um grande FODA-SE pra essa galera, mas não posso, porque né? Não vou sair por aí criando encrenca à toa, simplesmente ignoro. Mas que me dá vontade, ah, isso dá.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1537195594123575863?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1537195594123575863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1537195594123575863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1537195594123575863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1537195594123575863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2010/03/e-eu-com-isso.html' title='E eu com isso?'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-2177140165962320526</id><published>2009-12-25T13:58:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T14:00:48.129-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ano novo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Minhas preces foram atendidas! Acho que a gente tem que tomar cuidado com o que deseja, porque se desejar muito acontece. Queria tanto ir pra um lugar onde eu ficasse longe de tudo, onde só que eu pudesse fazer fosse caminhar em meio a natureza. E parece que eu consegui. Tô partindo daqui a pouco pra Goiás, mas precisamente a Chapada, onde devo ficar até meados de janeiro. Vou levando apenas uma mochila e a esperança de auto conhecimento. Espero poder escutar melhor o meu coração e tomar as decisões certa quando voltar (porque vai ser muito difícil voltar).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Até!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-2177140165962320526?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/2177140165962320526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=2177140165962320526&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2177140165962320526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/2177140165962320526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/12/ano-novo.html' title='Ano novo'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-7344789528754658672</id><published>2009-11-17T13:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T13:23:11.808-03:00</updated><title type='text'>no fim, tem o infinito...</title><content type='html'>Vá placidamente por entre o barulho e a pressa e lembre-se da paz que pode haver no silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;Tanto quanto possível, sem capitular, esteja de bem com todas as pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;Fale a sua verdade calma e claramente; e escute os outros, mesmo os estúpidos e ignorantes; também eles têm sua história.&lt;br /&gt;Evite pessoas barulhentas e agressivas. Elas são tormento para o espírito.&lt;br /&gt;Se você se comparar a outros, pode tomar-se vaidoso e amargo; porque sempre haverá pessoas superiores e inferiores a você.&lt;br /&gt;Desfrute suas conquistas assim como seus planos.&lt;br /&gt;Mantenha-se interessado em sua própria carreira, mesmo que humilde; é o que realmente se possui na sorte incerta dos tempos.&lt;br /&gt;Exercite a cautela nos negócios; porque o mundo é cheio de artifícios.&lt;br /&gt;Mas não deixe que isso o torne cego à virtude que existe; muitas pessoas lutam por altos ideais; e por toda parte a vida é cheia de heroísmo.&lt;br /&gt;Seja você mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;Principalmente não finja afeição, nem seja cínico sobre o amor; porque em face de toda aridez e desencantamento ele é perene como a grama.&lt;br /&gt;Aceite gentilmente o conselho dos anos, renunciando com benevolência às coisas da juventude.&lt;br /&gt;Cultive a força do espírito para proteger-se num infortúnio inesperado.&lt;br /&gt;Mas não se desgaste com temores imaginários.&lt;br /&gt;Muitos medos nascem da fadiga e da solidão.&lt;br /&gt;Acima de uma benéfica disciplina, seja bondoso consigo mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;Você é filho do Universo, não menos que as árvores e as estrelas.&lt;br /&gt;Você tem o direito de estar aqui.&lt;br /&gt;E, quer seja claro ou não para você, sem dúvida o Universo se desenrola como deveria.&lt;br /&gt;Portanto, esteja em paz com Deus, qualquer que seja sua forma de concebê-lo e seja qual for a sua lida e suas aspirações, na barulhenta confusão da vida, mantenha-se em paz com a sua alma.&lt;br /&gt;Com todos os enganos, penas e sonhos desfeitos, este é ainda um mundo maravilhoso.&lt;br /&gt;Esteja atento. Empenhe-se em ser feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max Ehrmann&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-7344789528754658672?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/7344789528754658672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=7344789528754658672&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7344789528754658672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7344789528754658672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-fim-tem-o-infinito.html' title='no fim, tem o infinito...'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-3894294168996841539</id><published>2009-11-13T10:39:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T10:50:35.499-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;eu preciso recomeçar de novo, a última vez que fiz isso foi em janeiro, mas to precisando de gente nova, lugares novos. tô precisando ficar com aquele frio na barriga de novo e com aqueles olhos que denunciam que estou perdida e deslumbrada ao mesmo tempo. eu odeio rotina. rotina é um troço que me deixa maluca. fico ouvindo o tic tac do relógio e pensando que a vida tá passando e eu to aqui no notebook divagando sobre coisas. sei lá, não sei se isso é ansiedade crônica, mas eu gosto de ter minha vida de cabeça pra baixo, seja pro bom ou pro ruim, o que eu nao posso é ficar na mesma. e eu não to falando de sair nos fins de semana e coisa do tipo, pq isso eu faço, eu sou do tipo que vai à praia em plena terça feira e de lá pra um bar onde fico até tarde da noite sem ter que me preocupar com o que vai ser do dia seguinte. eu quero mais do que isso.&lt;br /&gt;eu preciso de uma viagem que abra meus olhos e me faça enxergar algo novo, que me faça sentir grata pela vida que eu tenho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu preciso pegar uma chuva que apareceu de repente ou sentir o suor pingando de uma noite de samba. eu preciso olhar e ver cores e pessoas e cheiros...&lt;br /&gt;alguém podia me dá uma passagem só de ida pra algum lugar desse mundo e me deixar perdida por lá um bom tempo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-3894294168996841539?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/3894294168996841539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=3894294168996841539&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3894294168996841539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3894294168996841539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/11/eu-preciso-recomecar-de-novo-ultima-vez.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1279439337951224094</id><published>2009-11-09T15:30:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T15:56:08.566-03:00</updated><title type='text'>em frente</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hoje, por um acaso, eu peguei um livro antigo do André Takeda que tava perdido na minha estante, O Clube dos Corações Solitários. Eu li há um tempo atrás quando comprei numa bienal que nem lembro mais o ano. Eu sempre achei o livro bom, mas acho que depois de alguns anos, o livro começou a fazer mais sentido. Principalmente, porque a história fala sobre um cara comum desses que existe em todo lugar que eu vou, um cara que levou um chute na bunda da namorada e está tentando superar isso.&lt;br /&gt;Exatamente a mesma situação que eu venho há anos tentando superar e por isso me senti como ele em vários momentos. Essa coisa de está feliz pra caralho e de repente, por causa de uma merda de uma música que tocou no meio da festa, você ficar deprimdo porque lembrou da pessoa. Se interessar por alguém e de repente perceber que na verdade você só tá procurando alguém pra botar no lugar, depois ficar com qualquer pessoa e achar que nunca mais vai se apaixonar. Enfim, todas as situações patéticas que a gente passa quando rola o término de alguma coisa que você tinha certeza que iria durar. O bacana é que no decorrer no livro, aquele cara, que no começo vivia voltando ao passado, começa a viver de verdade e perceber que a vida dele é maravilhosa e que graças ao fim de um capítulo, ele pode iniciar outro, diferente, mas ainda assim maravilhoso e acaba percebendo que não há nada eterno, as coisas duram o tempo que devem durar e depois a vida segue para outros rumos.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sempre soube disso, mas ler ali aquela história como se fosse um alter-ego meu, mexeu comigo. Eu já passei pela fase depressiva, a fase nunca mais vai dar certo e agora eu tô numa fase que achei que nunca fosse chegar, a fase em que eu agradeço muito por aquela etapa ter chegado ao fim, porque isso expandiu os meus horizontes e me deu a oportunidade de recomeçar. Eu adoro essa fase que eu estou, essa fase em que eu sinto dentro de mim que passou, que se eu encontrar esta pessoa num bar eu vou falar com ela, desejar felicidades e me despedir sem nenhuma borboleta no estômago. Eu realmente sinto que acabou e dessa vez eu falo sério. Sei que pra ele já acabou há muito tempo, mas só agora eu sinto dentro de mim que de fato a história acabou. Ficam as lembranças boas e ruins, o aprendizado e é isso. Seguindo em frente porque essa vida é uma surpresa e você nunca sabe o que vai acontecer nos próximos capítulos. E eu prefiro assim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que rola um lance de esquizofrenia nesse blog, pq ninguém entra aqui mesmo, mas se por algum motivo você caiu neste site numa pesquisa no Google procurando por "corações partidos", fica aqui o meu conselho (se é que eu tenho moral pra dá conselho alguém). Você, meu amigo, que está na fase nunca-mais-vou-me-apaixonar, que escuta "Creep" todos os dias e não sabe o que fazer pra esquecer fulaninho(a), aqui vão algumas dicas: leia o livro do Takeda, tome muitos porres, respeite o seu tempo antes de conhecer outras pessoas e espere. Um dia você vai acordar e perceber que está livre novamente. Livre pra se apaixonar e ser feliz para sempre ou quebrar a cara de novo, mas é isso que dá graça a vida não é mesmo? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1279439337951224094?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1279439337951224094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1279439337951224094&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1279439337951224094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1279439337951224094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/11/em-frente.html' title='em frente'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4145206840747102235</id><published>2009-10-25T16:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T16:03:29.699-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Você me dá um disco?&lt;br /&gt;Dou sim&lt;br /&gt;Muito mais que isso&lt;br /&gt;Eu lhe dou um bejo&lt;br /&gt;Eu le dou&lt;br /&gt;Eu lhe dou&lt;br /&gt;Eu lhe doe um bejo&lt;br /&gt;Eu disse que ir &lt;br /&gt;É o verbo no caminho do infinito&lt;br /&gt;Eu disse que rir&lt;br /&gt;E o lado mais bonito da minha boca&lt;br /&gt;E você &lt;br /&gt;E você&lt;br /&gt;E você&lt;br /&gt;Achou bonito...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4145206840747102235?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4145206840747102235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4145206840747102235&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4145206840747102235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4145206840747102235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/10/voce-me-da-um-disco-dou-sim-muito-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-5265572539955266604</id><published>2009-10-22T09:37:00.008-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T09:59:23.860-03:00</updated><title type='text'>você pega o trem azul</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ai.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não adianta, faltando dois dias para o meu aniversário, eu começo a ficar muito pensativa. Fico tentando imaginar o que vem pela frente, o que já passou (ou teoricamente já deveria ter passado), começo a ficar melancólica. Não sei lidar com o que eu sinto. Queria vir aqui escrever as coisas bacanas que acontecem comigo, porque ultimamente tenho tido experiências maravilhosas me permitindo mudar e conhecer, mas não adianta. O que eu acabo fazendo é o mesmo que eu já fiz antes. Falar sobre o nada e ao mesmo tempo sobre tudo. Não me admira que este blog esteja entregue às moscas. Sou a pessoa mais complicada do mundo para se fazer entender e só sei falar sobre mim. O que posso fazer?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Coisas que a gente se esquece de dizer&lt;br /&gt;Frases que o vento vem&lt;br /&gt;às vezes me lembrar&lt;br /&gt;Coisas que ficaram muito tempo por dizer&lt;br /&gt;Na canção do vento não se cansam de voar..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que prefiro deixar as músicas falarem por mim nesse dia nublado e sem graça. Prefiro deixar que pensem o que quiserem, que o que escrevo não faz sentido, não tem pé nem cabeça e isso e aquilo. É como diria Jim Dodge:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;se você não está confuso então não está entendendo nada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-5265572539955266604?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/5265572539955266604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=5265572539955266604&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5265572539955266604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/5265572539955266604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/10/voce-pega-o-trem-azul.html' title='você pega o trem azul'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-3609457347979178843</id><published>2009-10-22T09:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T09:30:39.560-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mixtape'/><title type='text'>Músicas para uma manhã nublada</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="225" height="296"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://listen.grooveshark.com/widget.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="wmode" value="window"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&amp;widgetID=16144167&amp;style=metal&amp;bbg=CCA20C&amp;bfg=CC7C0C&amp;bt=4D221C&amp;bth=CCA20C&amp;pbg=4D221C&amp;pbgh=CC7C0C&amp;pfg=CCA20C&amp;pfgh=4D221C&amp;si=4D221C&amp;lbg=4D221C&amp;lbgh=CC7C0C&amp;lfg=CCA20C&amp;lfgh=4D221C&amp;sb=4D221C&amp;sbh=CC7C0C&amp;p=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;embed src="http://listen.grooveshark.com/widget.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="225" height="296" flashvars="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&amp;widgetID=16144167&amp;style=metal&amp;bbg=CCA20C&amp;bfg=CC7C0C&amp;bt=4D221C&amp;bth=CCA20C&amp;pbg=4D221C&amp;pbgh=CC7C0C&amp;pfg=CCA20C&amp;pfgh=4D221C&amp;si=4D221C&amp;lbg=4D221C&amp;lbgh=CC7C0C&amp;lfg=CCA20C&amp;lfgh=4D221C&amp;sb=4D221C&amp;sbh=CC7C0C&amp;p=0" allowScriptAccess="always" wmode="window"&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/8935670550916490784-3609457347979178843?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/3609457347979178843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=3609457347979178843&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3609457347979178843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/3609457347979178843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/10/musicas-para-uma-manha-nublada.html' title='Músicas para uma manhã nublada'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6205283398641948040</id><published>2009-10-21T13:52:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T13:52:53.366-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><title type='text'>Qua qua ra qua qua quem riu, foi eu!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bGbKHHqtsJE&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bGbKHHqtsJE&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/8935670550916490784-6205283398641948040?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6205283398641948040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6205283398641948040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6205283398641948040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6205283398641948040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/10/qua-qua-ra-qua-qua-quem-riu-foi-eu.html' title='Qua qua ra qua qua quem riu, foi eu!'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-6531610956110123653</id><published>2009-10-21T12:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T12:56:29.671-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Desejo a vocês...&lt;br /&gt;Fruto do mato&lt;br /&gt;Cheiro de jardim&lt;br /&gt;Namoro no portão&lt;br /&gt;Domingo sem chuva&lt;br /&gt;Segunda sem mau humor&lt;br /&gt;Sábado com seu amor&lt;br /&gt;Filme do Carlitos&lt;br /&gt;Chope com amigos&lt;br /&gt;Crônica de Rubem Braga&lt;br /&gt;Viver sem inimigos&lt;br /&gt;Filme antigo na TV&lt;br /&gt;Ter uma pessoa especial&lt;br /&gt;E que ela goste de você&lt;br /&gt;Música de Tom com letra de Chico&lt;br /&gt;Frango caipira em pensão do interior&lt;br /&gt;Ouvir uma palavra amável&lt;br /&gt;Ter uma surpresa agradável&lt;br /&gt;Ver a Banda passar&lt;br /&gt;Noite de lua cheia&lt;br /&gt;Rever uma velha amizade&lt;br /&gt;Ter fé em Deus&lt;br /&gt;Não ter que ouvir a palavra não&lt;br /&gt;Nem nunca, nem jamais e adeus.&lt;br /&gt;Rir como criança&lt;br /&gt;Ouvir canto de passarinho.&lt;br /&gt;Sarar de resfriado&lt;br /&gt;Escrever um poema de Amor&lt;br /&gt;Que nunca será rasgado&lt;br /&gt;Formar um par ideal&lt;br /&gt;Tomar banho de cachoeira&lt;br /&gt;Pegar um bronzeado legal&lt;br /&gt;Aprender um nova canção&lt;br /&gt;Esperar alguém na estação&lt;br /&gt;Queijo com goiabada&lt;br /&gt;Pôr-do-Sol na roça&lt;br /&gt;Uma festa&lt;br /&gt;Um violão&lt;br /&gt;Uma seresta&lt;br /&gt;Recordar um amor antigo&lt;br /&gt;Ter um ombro sempre amigo&lt;br /&gt;Bater palmas de alegria&lt;br /&gt;Uma tarde amena&lt;br /&gt;Calçar um velho chinelo&lt;br /&gt;Sentar numa velha poltrona&lt;br /&gt;Tocar violão para alguém&lt;br /&gt;Ouvir a chuva no telhado&lt;br /&gt;Vinho branco&lt;br /&gt;Bolero de Ravel&lt;br /&gt;E muito carinho meu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Carlos Drummond de Andrade)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6531610956110123653?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6531610956110123653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6531610956110123653&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6531610956110123653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6531610956110123653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/10/desejo-voces.html' title=''/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1533527155386232452</id><published>2009-10-21T12:48:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T12:53:22.028-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tudo muda o tempo todo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Lendo os posts antigos eu me dei conta que:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- quando entrei na UERJ estava muito segura de que era aquilo que eu queria pra mim e pouco tempo depois desisti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora: quando entrei na UFF achei que era isso que queria pra mim e agora também quero desistir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- disse que não gostava muito do LP Novos Baianos F.C&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;agora: UM CRIME! Cheguei a apagar este post! Não existe nada ruim nos Novos Baianos! (risos)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Vivia reclamando dos meus amores impossíveis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora: Ué, continuo reclamando, sempre fui apaixonada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Vivia reclamando das minhas ressacas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora: Prefiro não comentar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resumindo: Tudo mudou e continua igualzinho ao que era antes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1533527155386232452?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1533527155386232452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1533527155386232452&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1533527155386232452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1533527155386232452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/10/tudo-muda-o-tempo-todo.html' title='Tudo muda o tempo todo'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-1407965245175274762</id><published>2009-09-28T00:08:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T22:34:59.592-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Andar com fé eu vou, que a fé não costuma falhar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mesmo com os momentos preciosos que a vida me proporciona, eu sinto muitas vezes que não estou prestando atenção ao chamado. Acho que há algo muito maior que estou deixando passar despercebido. Então eu páro. Páro e tento escutar a mensagem perdida, mas sempre acabo me frustando. Às vezes, eu acho que compreendi pra só depois perceber é que eu não estou entendendo nada. Essa sensação de estar perdida só tem aumentado ao longo do tempo e isso não tem nada a ver com infelicidade ou coisa do tipo, tem a ver com destino. Minha vida pode está boa e serena, mas é como se eu estivesse vivendo a vida de outra pessoa. Não sei se o que estou dizendo é confuso de entender, mas eu me sinto como se tivesse seguindo por um caminho simplesmente porque só há aquele caminho e que na verdade eu deveria parar, prestar atenção em minha volta e perceber que se voltar um pouco atrás haverá uma trilha que me leva a um outro lugar muito mais mágico. É assim que me sinto. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O problema maior dessa sensação constante, é que mesmo quando em determinados momentos eu penso em voltar atrás no caminho, eu acabo desistindo porque não tenho certeza e uma palavra me define: insegurança. Tenho medo de voltar e descobri que não, era isso mesmo, o caminho é esse e não há nada que você possa fazer pra mudar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Às vezes, fico tentando entender porque eu sou assim, porque vivo esperando por um momento em que eu vá me sentir finalmente tranquila. Sonho com o dia em que olharei em minha voltar e me sentirei em casa, me sentirei fiel aos meus sentimentos e ao lugar como se eu tivesse sempre esperado por isso toda a minha vida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Talvez este sentimento não exista e meu destino nessa vida seja aprender a viver a vida sem tanta expectativa ou talvez o que mantém o meu coração aquecido é essa esperança. De qualquer forma, eu sigo, vou buscando meu caminho, trilhando meu rumo através da minha intuição na esperança de um dia entender um pouco que seja disso que chamamos vida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-1407965245175274762?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/1407965245175274762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=1407965245175274762&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1407965245175274762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/1407965245175274762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/09/andar-com-fe-eu-vou-que-fe-nao-costuma.html' title='Andar com fé eu vou, que a fé não costuma falhar'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-7873843096573847817</id><published>2009-06-07T15:53:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T15:58:50.577-03:00</updated><title type='text'>“There is a lot of life in a tree. Imagine in a forest.”</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/SiwN2y_zUII/AAAAAAAAAWg/otOo2yFRtng/s1600-h/WWF+Brazil+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 399px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344662092835410050" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_--f15KsMO1U/SiwN2y_zUII/AAAAAAAAAWg/otOo2yFRtng/s400/WWF+Brazil+1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nova campanha da &lt;a href="http://www.wwf.org.br/"&gt;WWF Brasil&lt;/a&gt; também pode servir como wallpaper!&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/8935670550916490784-7873843096573847817?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/7873843096573847817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=7873843096573847817&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7873843096573847817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/7873843096573847817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/06/there-is-lot-of-life-in-tree-imagine-in.html' title='“There is a lot of life in a tree. Imagine in a forest.”'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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/_--f15KsMO1U/SiwN2y_zUII/AAAAAAAAAWg/otOo2yFRtng/s72-c/WWF+Brazil+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8935670550916490784.post-6001284921990352001</id><published>2009-06-05T23:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T23:17:16.932-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Será?</title><content type='html'>Tô ansiosa pra caralho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-6001284921990352001?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/6001284921990352001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=6001284921990352001&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6001284921990352001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/6001284921990352001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/06/sera.html' title='Será?'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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-8935670550916490784.post-4577042137110366047</id><published>2009-06-05T12:08:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T12:11:22.751-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Só não vá se perder por aí...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Minha vida tá uma verdadeira novela mexicana. Todo dia eu acordo, planejo o que vai acontecer e de repente, sem que eu perceba eu já tomei um outro rumo. Uma ligação muda o meu dia. Eu não sei o que fazer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vou parar de tentar prever o futuro e aguardar os próximos capítulos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8935670550916490784-4577042137110366047?l=dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/feeds/4577042137110366047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8935670550916490784&amp;postID=4577042137110366047&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4577042137110366047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8935670550916490784/posts/default/4577042137110366047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dis-moidesmots.blogspot.com/2009/06/so-nao-va-se-perder-por-ai.html' title='Só não vá se perder por aí...'/><author><name>Nobre</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04242790370641780488</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></feed>
