<?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-20586836</id><updated>2012-02-16T08:51:44.518-03:00</updated><category term='Metric-on'/><title type='text'>Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>92</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-6945253689573443142</id><published>2010-07-27T22:56:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T22:28:41.393-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/TE-OqqSFVmI/AAAAAAAAAG4/t87E5LDf6do/s1600/lib%C3%A9lulis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498770533598451298" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/TE-OqqSFVmI/AAAAAAAAAG4/t87E5LDf6do/s400/lib%C3%A9lulis.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is my final fit, my final bellyache with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A heart that's full up like a landfill&lt;br /&gt;A job that slowly kills you&lt;br /&gt;Bruises that won't heal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-6945253689573443142?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/6945253689573443142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=6945253689573443142&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6945253689573443142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6945253689573443142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2010/07/this-is-my-final-fit-my-final-bellyache.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/TE-OqqSFVmI/AAAAAAAAAG4/t87E5LDf6do/s72-c/lib%C3%A9lulis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-2451175682260578871</id><published>2010-07-14T21:19:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T21:22:42.141-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Metric-on'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/TD5URDFUo1I/AAAAAAAAAGw/-exIdsKKxAw/s1600/paralelo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493921247300723538" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/TD5URDFUo1I/AAAAAAAAAGw/-exIdsKKxAw/s400/paralelo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Um olho no gato e outro no peixe.&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/20586836-2451175682260578871?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/2451175682260578871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=2451175682260578871&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/2451175682260578871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/2451175682260578871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2010/07/um-olho-no-gato-e-outro-no-peixe.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/TD5URDFUo1I/AAAAAAAAAGw/-exIdsKKxAw/s72-c/paralelo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-7136873398873910968</id><published>2010-01-28T21:51:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T22:01:39.667-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/S2IxPNB6GqI/AAAAAAAAAGY/sefCihT8fLE/s1600-h/DSC05492.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/S2IxPNB6GqI/AAAAAAAAAGY/sefCihT8fLE/s400/DSC05492.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431958237827701410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Queria uma vidinha assim,&lt;br /&gt;uma vida simplin&lt;br /&gt;peixe e aipim&lt;br /&gt;de sobremesa pudim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;  With many love and flowers, and music, and music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/20586836-7136873398873910968?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/7136873398873910968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=7136873398873910968&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/7136873398873910968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/7136873398873910968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2010/01/queria-uma-vidinha-assim-uma-vida.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/S2IxPNB6GqI/AAAAAAAAAGY/sefCihT8fLE/s72-c/DSC05492.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-7794144596392480988</id><published>2009-04-13T22:06:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T22:26:52.253-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SePh6tX89CI/AAAAAAAAAFs/i1EW-grAMmQ/s1600-h/DSC05507.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SePh6tX89CI/AAAAAAAAAFs/i1EW-grAMmQ/s400/DSC05507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324347583210779682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Weird Fishes&lt;/h2&gt;Então vai, pega um ônibus,  um avião,&lt;br /&gt;LARGA TUDO!&lt;br /&gt;Em algum lugar onde você queira muito estar, com alguém que você queira muito com você,&lt;br /&gt; é bem fácil ser feliz, aposto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pra ser feliz, lucidez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:tahoma;font-size:85%;color:#000033;"&gt;"Lucidez é o estado mais dinâmico em que a consciência pode se  encontrar quando está fora do corpo. Seria um momento onde se pode perguntar  a si mesmo se está acordado ou dormindo, pois existe a consciência  do eu desperto por onde se transita. &lt;p&gt;Existe um diferencial enorme quando o projetor se encontra lúcido fora    do corpo e no que diz respeito à vida linear deste orbe. Aqui, em tudo o que    experenciamos, existe um véu entre nós e o outro, por mais "acordados"    que possamos supor estarmos.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Quando lúcidos fora do corpo, a visão passa a ser de quadridimensional para mais, e percebemos, sentimos e aprendemos tudo simultaneamente com extrema consciência dos processos que envolvem esses canais de atuação; basta focar a atenção e estamos captando tudo.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Lucidez é enxergar a vida sob vários ângulos, do ponto    de vista do observador, do observado e da 3ª pessoa. Você está    dentro e fora ao mesmo tempo, numa ampliação consciencial inconcebível    para essa atualidade em que vivemos.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Experimentar a lucidez traz enorme sensação de liberdade, poder    e alegria.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Esse processo todo, com o decorrer do tempo, passa a significar um enorme aumento de lucidez aqui na terra também, é que o quanto mais se avança em lúcidez fora do corpo, mais se desenvolve globalmente, podendo-se avançar em lucidez dentro de novos e inimagináveis parâmetros, onde a própria palavra lucidez perde o seu significado primeiro."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-7794144596392480988?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/7794144596392480988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=7794144596392480988&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/7794144596392480988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/7794144596392480988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2009/04/weird-fishes-entao-vai-pega-um-onibus.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SePh6tX89CI/AAAAAAAAAFs/i1EW-grAMmQ/s72-c/DSC05507.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-691817762861857737</id><published>2008-12-23T22:51:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T22:59:21.409-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SVGWj6IuSKI/AAAAAAAAAEI/3eOtF88KuRg/s1600-h/casa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SVGWj6IuSKI/AAAAAAAAAEI/3eOtF88KuRg/s400/casa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283169381527734434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"&gt;Quando penso em você&lt;br /&gt;Fecho os olhos de saudade&lt;br /&gt;Tenho tido muita coisa&lt;br /&gt;Menos a felicidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Correm os meus dedos longos&lt;br /&gt;Em versos tristes que invento&lt;br /&gt;Nem aquilo a que me entrego&lt;br /&gt;Já me dá contentamento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pode ser até manhã&lt;br /&gt;Cedo, claro, feito o dia&lt;br /&gt;Mas nada do que me dizem me faz sentir alegria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu só queria ter do mato&lt;br /&gt;Um gosto de framboesa&lt;br /&gt;Pra correr entre os canteiros&lt;br /&gt;E esconder minha tristeza&lt;br /&gt;E eu ainda sou bem moça pra tanta tristeza ...&lt;br /&gt;E deixemos de coisa, cuidemos da vida&lt;br /&gt;Senão chega a morte&lt;br /&gt;Ou coisa parecida&lt;br /&gt;E nos arrasta moça&lt;br /&gt;Sem ter visto a vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É pau, é pedra, é o fim do caminho&lt;br /&gt;É um resto de toco, é um pouco sozinho&lt;br /&gt;É um caco de vidro, é a vida, é o sol&lt;br /&gt;É a noite, é a morte, é um laço, é o anzol&lt;br /&gt;São as águas de março fechando o verão&lt;br /&gt;É promessa de vida em nosso coração.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-691817762861857737?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/691817762861857737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=691817762861857737&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/691817762861857737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/691817762861857737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2008/12/quando-penso-em-voc-fecho-os-olhos-de.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SVGWj6IuSKI/AAAAAAAAAEI/3eOtF88KuRg/s72-c/casa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-6891784151415903191</id><published>2008-11-29T00:19:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T00:23:47.382-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/STC07_XsOnI/AAAAAAAAAEA/CAFDcZeX0Ic/s1600-h/fots.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/STC07_XsOnI/AAAAAAAAAEA/CAFDcZeX0Ic/s400/fots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273914106366933618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4 class="fr"&gt;Por que é que o cão é tão livre?&lt;br /&gt;Porque ele é o mistério vivo que não se indaga.&lt;/h4&gt; &lt;span class="aut"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pensador.info/autor/Clarice_Lispector/" class="autor"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Clarice&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lispector&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vai e vem  de vida, quase me esgota o ar;  e a dor... Dorme mais um pouco, acorda pra me dar boa noite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-6891784151415903191?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/6891784151415903191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=6891784151415903191&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6891784151415903191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6891784151415903191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2008/11/por-que-que-o-co-to-livre-porque-ele-o.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/STC07_XsOnI/AAAAAAAAAEA/CAFDcZeX0Ic/s72-c/fots.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-5159860014641241884</id><published>2008-11-04T18:22:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T19:03:08.173-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SRDCmlLIoZI/AAAAAAAAADw/JO-RdIZN2Ag/s1600-h/juncos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 314px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SRDCmlLIoZI/AAAAAAAAADw/JO-RdIZN2Ag/s400/juncos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264921932465742226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Juncos pra sempre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois de ti, eu juro por Deus,&lt;br /&gt;jamais a mesma...&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/20586836-5159860014641241884?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/5159860014641241884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=5159860014641241884&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/5159860014641241884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/5159860014641241884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2008/11/juncos-pra-sempre.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SRDCmlLIoZI/AAAAAAAAADw/JO-RdIZN2Ag/s72-c/juncos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-6745558064880002704</id><published>2008-10-12T14:24:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T14:39:28.806-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SPIzBORRLEI/AAAAAAAAADo/igoDo7yOtJw/s1600-h/positive.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SPIzBORRLEI/AAAAAAAAADo/igoDo7yOtJw/s400/positive.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256319811198200898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anda-me doendo o mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vento no rosto, eis meu nome indígena.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tempo, tempo... não deixa o mundo me engolir... Amém!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-6745558064880002704?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/6745558064880002704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=6745558064880002704&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6745558064880002704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6745558064880002704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2008/10/anda-me-doendo-o-mundo.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SPIzBORRLEI/AAAAAAAAADo/igoDo7yOtJw/s72-c/positive.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-6703931776097961535</id><published>2008-05-02T22:07:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T22:13:36.261-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SBu7ExC2dMI/AAAAAAAAADY/wnej0plgRZc/s1600-h/confuso.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SBu7ExC2dMI/AAAAAAAAADY/wnej0plgRZc/s400/confuso.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195952285661164738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;Hoje está um dia de nada. Hoje é zero hora. Existe por acaso um número que não é nada? que é menos que zero? que começa no que nunca começou porque sempre era? e era antes de sempre? Ligo-me a esta ausência vital e rejuvenesço-me todo, ao mesmo tempo contido e total. Redondo sem início e sem fim, eu sou o ponto antes do zero e do ponto final. Do zero ao infinito vou caminhando sem parar. Mas ao mesmo tempo tudo é tão fugaz. Eu sempre fui e imediatamente não era mais. O dia corre lá fora à toa e há abismos de silêncio em mim. A sombra de minha alma é o corpo. O corpo é a sombra de minha alma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clarice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-6703931776097961535?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/6703931776097961535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=6703931776097961535&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6703931776097961535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6703931776097961535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2008/05/hoje-est-um-dia-de-nada.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/SBu7ExC2dMI/AAAAAAAAADY/wnej0plgRZc/s72-c/confuso.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-6391775485322329354</id><published>2008-01-07T20:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T21:11:59.411-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/R4K9FuhM4vI/AAAAAAAAADM/yENuBF-zNmw/s1600-h/Baloes1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/R4K9FuhM4vI/AAAAAAAAADM/yENuBF-zNmw/s400/Baloes1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152888829749551858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"Como se eu estivesse fora do movimento da vida. A vida rolando por aí feito roda-gigante, com todo mundo dentro, e eu aqui parada, pateta, sentada no bar. Sem fazer nada, como se tivesse desaprendido a linguagem dos outros. A linguagem que eles usam pra se comunicar quando rodam assim e assim por diante nessa roda-gigante. Você tem um passe para a roda-gigante, uma senha, um código, sei lá. Você fala qualquer coisa tipo bá, por exemplo, então o cara deixa você entrar, sentar e rodar junto com os outros. Mas eu fico sempre do lado de fora. Aqui parada, sem saber a palavra certa, sem conseguir adivinhar. Olhando de fora, a cara cheia, louca de vontade de estar lá, rodando junto com eles nessa roda idiota..."&lt;br /&gt;Caio Fernando Abreu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feliz Ano Novo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu sou à flor da pele... E como os extremos me assustam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-6391775485322329354?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/6391775485322329354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=6391775485322329354&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6391775485322329354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6391775485322329354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2008/01/como-se-eu-estivesse-fora-do-movimento.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/R4K9FuhM4vI/AAAAAAAAADM/yENuBF-zNmw/s72-c/Baloes1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-2220197514888451279</id><published>2007-06-27T15:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T16:19:31.005-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RoKshoaZoeI/AAAAAAAAACc/Yz1GAwb9O4g/s1600-h/vanesssas.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080813023411151330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RoKshoaZoeI/AAAAAAAAACc/Yz1GAwb9O4g/s400/vanesssas.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quero um mal de morte&lt;br /&gt;A estas almas incertas.&lt;br /&gt;Tortura-as a honra que vos fazem,&lt;br /&gt;Pesam-lhes, dão-lhe vergonha os seus louvores.&lt;br /&gt;Porque não vivo&lt;br /&gt;Preso à sua trela,&lt;br /&gt;Saúdam-me com um olhar agridoce.&lt;br /&gt;Onde passa uma inveja sem esperança.&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Porque não me amaldiçoam!&lt;br /&gt;Porque não me viram francamente as costas!&lt;br /&gt;Aqueles olhos suplicantes e extraviados&lt;br /&gt;Hão-de enganar-se sempre a meu respeito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caminho a passos largos pelo teu rastro, te amo porque do amor nasce o amor. Minha saudade é infinita, e te encontro lá, ou aquí, porque tua presença aquí dentro e aquí fora, eles sabem quando vêem meu sorriso é igual!&lt;br /&gt;Ainda não sei onde te encontrar, quando chegar a hora me avisa. Tu foi sem me avisar... Andei te vendo por aí, não consegui falar nada, mas tenho muita coisa pra te contar, ou nada.&lt;br /&gt;Senta comigo e vê o sol. Tá ouvindo o barulho do rio?&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/20586836-2220197514888451279?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/2220197514888451279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=2220197514888451279&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/2220197514888451279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/2220197514888451279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/06/quero-um-mal-de-morte-estas-almas.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RoKshoaZoeI/AAAAAAAAACc/Yz1GAwb9O4g/s72-c/vanesssas.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-6161732923058838077</id><published>2007-06-22T17:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T17:29:03.651-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rnwr2wACjcI/AAAAAAAAACU/pEVXhUd15Ys/s1600-h/DSC04968.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078982699365076418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rnwr2wACjcI/AAAAAAAAACU/pEVXhUd15Ys/s400/DSC04968.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silêncio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-6161732923058838077?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/6161732923058838077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=6161732923058838077&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6161732923058838077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6161732923058838077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/06/silncio.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rnwr2wACjcI/AAAAAAAAACU/pEVXhUd15Ys/s72-c/DSC04968.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-5676557560981713774</id><published>2007-06-17T13:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T13:40:38.247-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RnVebQACjbI/AAAAAAAAACM/MabpKh8S0HQ/s1600-h/passaromorto2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077067977174715826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RnVebQACjbI/AAAAAAAAACM/MabpKh8S0HQ/s400/passaromorto2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dores por sentimentos intrínsecos e agonias malditas, de cinco xícaras de café bem forte todas as mãnhas. De semanas inteiras e cheias de tanto ... tantas...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Insânia cerebral fajuta. Puro cansaço, afinal não sou de ferro. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah, que bom se fosse eu de sonhos, ou de algodão ou de fogo, queria arder por aí afora. E me espalhar com o vento ...&lt;br /&gt;Não sei no mundo nada melhor do que a liberdade, ou talvez o amor? Junta-se os dois e joga-se fora o café! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas antes me dá mais um gole?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:movida@pormeusvícios"&gt;movida@pormeusvícios&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/20586836-5676557560981713774?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/5676557560981713774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=5676557560981713774&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/5676557560981713774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/5676557560981713774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/06/dores-por-sentimentos-intrnsecos-e.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RnVebQACjbI/AAAAAAAAACM/MabpKh8S0HQ/s72-c/passaromorto2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-76561253940225898</id><published>2007-06-12T16:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T16:48:40.260-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rm708QACjaI/AAAAAAAAACE/tx_GwLL_BKI/s1600-h/t_o[1]..JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075263146017590690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rm708QACjaI/AAAAAAAAACE/tx_GwLL_BKI/s400/t_o%5B1%5D..JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu encontrei-a quando não quis mais procurar o meu amor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;e quanto levou foi pra eu merecer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;antes de um mês&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eu já não sei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E até quem me vê lendo jornal na fila do pão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sabe que eu te encontrei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E ninguem dirá que é tarde demais&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;que é tão diferente assim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Do nosso amor a gente é quem sabe, pequena&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ah vai!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Me diz o que é o sufoco&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;que eu te mostro alguém afim de te acompanhar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E se o caso for de ir à praia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eu levo essa casa numa sacola&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu encontrei-a e quis duvidar tanto clichê&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;deve não ser&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Você me falou pra eu não me preocupar &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ter fé e ver coragem no amor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E só de te ver eu penso em trocar a minha TV &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;num jeito de te levar a qualquer lugar que você queira&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;e ir onde o vento for&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Que pra nós dois sair de casa já é se aventurar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ah vai! Me diz o que é o sossego&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;que eu te mostro alguém afim de te acompanhar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E se o tempo for te levar eu sigo essa hora&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pego carona pra te acompanhar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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/20586836-76561253940225898?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/76561253940225898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=76561253940225898&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/76561253940225898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/76561253940225898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/06/eu-encontrei-quando-no-quis-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rm708QACjaI/AAAAAAAAACE/tx_GwLL_BKI/s72-c/t_o%5B1%5D..JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-7582069726801774414</id><published>2007-05-31T14:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T15:17:50.125-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rl8NxKR5y3I/AAAAAAAAAB0/PhSDLQbV65g/s1600-h/Image.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070786843666664306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rl8NxKR5y3I/AAAAAAAAAB0/PhSDLQbV65g/s400/Image.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Fisicamente, o andar não é mais do que uma queda evitada a cada instante; da mesma maneira a existência é a morte suspensa, adiada, e a atividade de nosso espírito não é mais que uma luta constante contra o tédio." Schopenhauer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Esperar, esperar e esperar mais um pouco. Que coisas aconteçam, que chegue o dia D, que as horas passem que o vida mude, que a puta que pariu. Esperar é um saco!&lt;br /&gt;Mudança de lua talvez, mas... Cansada...&lt;br /&gt;Cansada de esperar, cansada de rotinas, e tudo em um certo momento vira rotina.&lt;br /&gt;Quero tocar uns copos na parede, entrar no rio guaíba pelada, dane-se o frio.&lt;br /&gt;Não é T.P.M nem nada. É uma agonia que pensei que tivesse ido embora, mas não, tá aquí guardadinha e em alguns dias vem à tona me dar idéias.&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/20586836-7582069726801774414?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/7582069726801774414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=7582069726801774414&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/7582069726801774414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/7582069726801774414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/05/fisicamente-o-andar-no-mais-do-que-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rl8NxKR5y3I/AAAAAAAAAB0/PhSDLQbV65g/s72-c/Image.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-3768128378697089470</id><published>2007-04-30T16:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T22:05:40.600-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RjZHoxShp8I/AAAAAAAAABc/s3vrxskWz0g/s1600-h/foto10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059309997148710850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RjZHoxShp8I/AAAAAAAAABc/s3vrxskWz0g/s400/foto10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's, oh, so quiet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's, oh, so still&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You're all alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And so peaceful until...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não vou mudar não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu vou ficar são&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mesmo se for só não vou ceder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Deus vai dar aval sim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O mal vai ter fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E no final assim calado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu sei que vou ser coroado rei de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&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/20586836-3768128378697089470?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/3768128378697089470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=3768128378697089470&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/3768128378697089470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/3768128378697089470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/04/its-oh-so-quiet-its-oh-so-still-youre.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RjZHoxShp8I/AAAAAAAAABc/s3vrxskWz0g/s72-c/foto10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-1542877227290465382</id><published>2007-04-12T15:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T21:50:46.030-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rh6Bt7j-FrI/AAAAAAAAABU/mW-Ns7upFvM/s1600-h/pipoca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052618458038933170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rh6Bt7j-FrI/AAAAAAAAABU/mW-Ns7upFvM/s400/pipoca.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;_ seria ótimo.&lt;br /&gt;_ é, seria!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;ah, odeioooo você.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;já q não tenho nada bala escrevo: pirulito! =)~&lt;br /&gt;tá aquí, teu pedido é uma ordem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-1542877227290465382?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/1542877227290465382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=1542877227290465382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/1542877227290465382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/1542877227290465382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/04/seria-timo.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Rh6Bt7j-FrI/AAAAAAAAABU/mW-Ns7upFvM/s72-c/pipoca.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-2032001307688414466</id><published>2007-03-17T17:18:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-03-17T17:23:13.735-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RfxNTcgBXmI/AAAAAAAAABA/btHuju3mUUA/s1600-h/bebado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042990679211466338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RfxNTcgBXmI/AAAAAAAAABA/btHuju3mUUA/s400/bebado.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;"Existe um ser que mora dentro de mim como se fosse casa dele, e é. Trata-se de um cavalo preto e lustroso que apesar de inteiramente selvagem - pois nunca morou antes em ninguem nem jamais lhe puseram rédeas nem sela - apesar de inteiramente selvagem tem por isso mesmo uma docura primeira de quem nao tem medo..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cronopios.com.br/site/prosa.asp?id=2180"&gt;http://www.cronopios.com.br/site/prosa.asp?id=2180&lt;/a&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/20586836-2032001307688414466?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/2032001307688414466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=2032001307688414466&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/2032001307688414466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/2032001307688414466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/03/existe-um-ser-que-mora-dentro-de-mim.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RfxNTcgBXmI/AAAAAAAAABA/btHuju3mUUA/s72-c/bebado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-7273844015950077398</id><published>2007-03-07T15:15:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T14:49:12.038-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Re8B4AqYgtI/AAAAAAAAAAw/Mnf4lU8lrpk/s1600-h/fakraFly_H.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039248569812943570" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Re8B4AqYgtI/AAAAAAAAAAw/Mnf4lU8lrpk/s400/fakraFly_H.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Perspectivas...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Me ensina a não andar com os pés no chão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Para sempre é sempre por um triz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Ah, diz quantos desastres tem na minha mão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Diz se é perigoso a gente ser feliz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&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/20586836-7273844015950077398?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/7273844015950077398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=7273844015950077398&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/7273844015950077398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/7273844015950077398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/03/perspectivas.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/Re8B4AqYgtI/AAAAAAAAAAw/Mnf4lU8lrpk/s72-c/fakraFly_H.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-6490149651196008467</id><published>2007-02-25T19:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T19:52:57.494-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/ReIS_KtUhrI/AAAAAAAAAAk/qBUXwVHRgJA/s1600-h/wedfdf.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035608209769137842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/ReIS_KtUhrI/AAAAAAAAAAk/qBUXwVHRgJA/s400/wedfdf.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pois se é no "não" que se descobre de verdade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O que te sobra além das coisas casuais?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me diz se assim está em paz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Achando que sofrer é amar demais&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-6490149651196008467?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/6490149651196008467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=6490149651196008467&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6490149651196008467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6490149651196008467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/02/pois-se-no-no-que-se-descobre-de.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/ReIS_KtUhrI/AAAAAAAAAAk/qBUXwVHRgJA/s72-c/wedfdf.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-6915849471371947723</id><published>2007-02-20T11:04:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T16:40:03.431-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RdsAoWqIcuI/AAAAAAAAAAY/n97uf44Uvvc/s1600-h/fundiÃ§Ã£o+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033617701793723106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RdsAoWqIcuI/AAAAAAAAAAY/n97uf44Uvvc/s400/fundi%C3%A7%C3%A3o+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Faz tanto sentido. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on and on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;from the moment i wake&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;to the moment i sleep&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;I'll be there by your side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-6915849471371947723?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/6915849471371947723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=6915849471371947723&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6915849471371947723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/6915849471371947723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/02/possibilidades.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RdsAoWqIcuI/AAAAAAAAAAY/n97uf44Uvvc/s72-c/fundi%C3%A7%C3%A3o+023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-2124699899161859441</id><published>2007-02-13T21:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T23:20:03.716-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RdJbOQVr-CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ACb7Empuhgk/s1600-h/movie+script.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031184034188490786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RdJbOQVr-CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ACb7Empuhgk/s400/movie+script.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desde o começo não sei quem és &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No fundo não te conheço &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se calhar sou o culpado se calhar até mereço, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quis confiar em ti mas não deixaste ou não quiseste, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Imagino as coisas que tu nunca me disseste &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As vezes queria ser mosca e voar por aí, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pousar em ti, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ouvir o que nunca ouvi, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ver o que nunca vi nem conheci &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saber se pensas em mim quando não estás comigo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Será que és minha amiga como eu sou teu amigo? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Será que falas mal de mim nas minhas costas? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há coisas em ti que tu não mostras ou já não gostas ...&lt;br /&gt;Não peço nada em troca apenas quero sinceridade, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por mais que doa e difícil que seja venha a verdade.&lt;br /&gt;Será que alguém te toca em segredo, será que é medo? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Será que pra ti não passo de mais um brinquedo? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Será que exagero será que não passa de imaginação? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Será que é o meu nome que tens gravado no coração ou não? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu sou a merda que vês &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ao menos sabes quem sou &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E sabes que tudo o que tenho é tudo aquilo que te dou, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nunca te prometi mais do que podia, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Prefiro encarar a realidade a viver na fantasia...&lt;br /&gt;Porque é que não me olhas nos olhos quando pedes perdão? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Será que por saberes que neles vejo o reflexo do teu coração? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E os olhos não mentem quando a boca o faz, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E se ainda não me conheces, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Então nunca conhecerás, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Serás capaz de fazer o que te peço? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desculpa-me ser mal educado quando stresso assim me expresso... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sou frio, praguejo o excesso &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se conseguíssemos dialogar já seria um progresso, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A chama enfraquece e está a morrer aos poucos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Porque é que é assim?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Será que estamos a ficar loucos? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Acho que nunca soubeste o quanto gostei de ti.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Esta é a carta que eu nunca te escrevi!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-2124699899161859441?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/2124699899161859441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=2124699899161859441&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/2124699899161859441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/2124699899161859441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/02/en-la-mitologa-griega-eran-tres-los.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/RdJbOQVr-CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ACb7Empuhgk/s72-c/movie+script.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-116890744730426364</id><published>2007-01-15T20:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T17:58:20.096-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6470/510/1600/456833/DSC01225.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6470/510/400/491688/DSC01225.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E ser...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Como uma varinha de condão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Para quando riscar o chão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Espalhar, espalhar no céu (ah!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Beatles a granel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Em sonhos de papel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Porque na vida amar é fel e mel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feliz com àquelas agonias todas de viver!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Why'd you have to be so cute&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It's impossible to ignore you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Must you make me laugh so much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It's bad enough we get along so wel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;lSay goodnight and go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Why is it always, always:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Goodnight and Go?&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/20586836-116890744730426364?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/116890744730426364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=116890744730426364&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116890744730426364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116890744730426364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2007/01/e-ser.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-116697448341094100</id><published>2006-12-24T11:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T12:34:43.500-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6470/510/1600/984398/eu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6470/510/400/791613/eu.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Nesse curso entendi que a vida não tece apenas uma teia de perdas mas nos proporciona uma sucessão de ganhos. O equilíbrio da balança depende muito do que soubermos e quisermos enxergar (...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;(...) sou dos que acreditam que a felicidade é possível, que o amor é possível, que não existe só desencontro e traição, mas ternura, amizade, compaixão, ética e delicadeza. Penso que no curso de nossa existência precisamos aprender essa desacreditada coisa chamada "ser feliz". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Na arte como nas relações humanas, que incluem os diversos laços amorosos, nadamos contra a correnteza. Tentamos o impossível: a fusão total não existe, o partilhamento completo é inexeqüível. O essencial nem pode ser compartilhado: é descoberta e susto, glória ou danação de cada um -solitariamente. Porém numa conversa ou num silêncio, num olhar, num gesto de amor como numa obra de arte, pode-se abrir uma fresta. (...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;(...) Espiarão juntos, artista e seu espectador ou seu leitor - como dois amantes. E assim, rasgando joelhos e mãos, a gente afinal vai. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Pois viver deveria ser - até o último pensamento e o derradeiro olhar -transformar-se. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Somos autores de boa parte de nossas escolhas e omissões, audácia ou acomodação, nossa esperança e fraternidade ou nossa desconfiança. Sobretudo, devemos resolver como empregamos e saboreamos nosso tempo, que é afinal sempre o tempo presente. Mas somos inocentes das fatalidades e dos acasos brutais que nos roubam amores, pessoas, saúde, emprego, segurança, ideais. De modo que minha perspectiva do ser humano, de mim mesma, é tão contraditória quanto, instigantemente, somos. Somos transição, somos processo. E isso nos perturba. O fluxo de dias e anos, décadas, serve para crescer e acumular, não só perder e limitar. Dessa perspectiva nos tornaremos senhores, não servos. Pessoas, não pequenos animais atordoados que correm sem saber ao certo por quê. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Fruto de enganos ou de amor, nasço de minha própria contradição. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;O contorno da boca, a forma da mão, o jeito de andar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;(sonhos e temores incluídos) virão desses que me formaram. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Mas o que eu traçar no espelho há de se armar também segundo o meu desejo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Terei meu par de asas cujo vôo se levanta desses que me dão a sombra onde eu cresço &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;- como, debaixo da árvore, um caule e sua flor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;O mundo não tem sentido sem o nosso olhar que lhe atribui forma, sem o nosso pensamento que lhe confere alguma ordem. É uma idéia assustadora: vivemos segundo o nosso ponto de vista, com ele sobrevivemos ou naufragamos. Explodimos ou congelamos conforme nossa abertura ou exclusão em relação ao mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; Em plena maturidade sinto em mim a menina assombrada com a beleza da chuva que chega sobre as árvores num jardim de muitas décadas atrás. Tudo aquilo é para sempre meu, ainda que as pessoas amadas partam, que a casa seja vendida, que eu já não seja aquela. Para isso precisei abrir em mim um espaço onde abrigar as coisas positivas, e desejei que fosse maior do que o local onde inevitavelmente eu armazenaria as ruins. Os contornos desse eu que me propuseram precisaram ser ampliados segundo o meu jeito, para que, dentro de todas as minhas limitações, eu pudesse me abrir e acolher a vida em constante transformação. Boa parte do tempo andamos meio às cegas, avançando por erro e tentativa, tateando entre os desafios de cada dia. Sobre essa terra firme ou areia traiçoeira teremos de erguer a nossa casa pessoal feita em parte desses materiais brutos. Nem tudo pode ser programado. Os cálculos têm resultados imprevistos. Misturamos em nós possibilidade de sonhar e necessidade de rastejar, medo e fervor. Talvez seja utopia, mas se eu não deixar que se embote a minha sensibilidade, quando envelhecer, em vez de estar ressequida eu terei chegado ao máximo exercício de meus afetos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Nascemos com toda a carga de nossa genética física e psíquica. Mas não somos apenas isso. Somos em parte resultado do que foram nossos pais. Mas não somos apenas isso. A sociedade em que vivemos tem muitos olhos e braços, que nos vigiam e interferem em nossa realidade. Um deles chama-se opinião alheia. Não a de algumas pessoas amadas e respeitadas, mas essa entidade informe, onipresente, quase onipotente, do "o que eles vão pensar". Sem pedir licença, entra em nossa casa e nossa consciência, limitando, podando. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Mas quem nos dará sugestões, quem nos pode ajudar - se somos também pré-formados, pré-fabricados e condicionados? Quem vai destramar esses fios, onde começamos nós e termina a influência de tantos? Por isso somos buscantes, inquietos, naturalmente insatisfeitos. Não condenados: somos livres para muitas decisões. A partir de quando pude ter algum discernimento, o que fiz para continuar sendo - ou melhorando - isto que agora sou? Como fui me tornando um indivíduo que cultiva liberdade mas também respeito e ternura pelo outro? Como me posicionei em relação a essa entidade anônima e poderosa que se chama os outros, que pode ser amável e cruel? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Nossa visão imprecisa se define mais com o amadurecimento e a reflexão. Forma-se o que chamamos personalidade, opinião própria, atitude. De mil maneiras mostraremos o lugar que pretendemos ocupar: pela escolha das nossas roupas, da profissão, do parceiro, de tudo. Sobretudo no inconsciente eu me comportarei conforme a confiança, a suspeita, o entusiasmo ou o ceticismo que me caracterizam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Auto-estima é o que me vem à mente. Visão positiva, não cor-de-rosa ou irreal, significando confiança. Capacidade de alegria, busca de felicidade, crenças. O que de melhor posso fazer, como ser inteiro e feliz, dentro de minhas possibilidades - que geralmente extrapolam aquilo em que acreditamos ou nos fazem crer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Tem a ver com superar o confortável espírito de rebanho: formar e sustentar opiniões próprias. Não com viver desdenhosamente à margem, mas enfrentar o risco de algum isolamento. Não vender a alma a qualquer preço por qualquer companhia, mas selecionar os amados eleitos, os amigos leais, os mestres e modelos sensatos. Até mesmo a profissão mais adequada, a que nos dê mais prazer, se é que podemos fazer essa escolha: temos de pegar qualquer atividade quando se trata de sobreviver. Falar é fácil... Eu sei. Mudanças produzem ansiedade. Tentar sair do emprego em que me pagam mal ou estou infeliz; enfrentar pai ou mãe opressivos; romper um relacionamento amoroso que me diminui ou esmaga; evitar um convívio em que um se anula para que o outro tripudie, num processo de servidão que gera ressentimento e culpa. Sair do estabelecido e habitual, mesmo ruim, é sempre perturbador. O desejo de ser mais livre é forte, o medo de sair da situação conhecida, por pior que ela seja, pode ser maior ainda. Para nos reorganizarmos precisamos nos desmontar, refazer esse enigma nosso e descobrir qual é, afinal, o projeto de cada um de nós. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Nossa maneira de ver e viver reflete - e repete - aquela com que fomos vistos quando éramos somente reflexo no espelho, ou vamos formando uma postura própria com todo o esforço e dor que isso possa exigir? Sendo contraditórios, somamos hesitação e medo com audácia e fervor. Podemos nos esconder no quarto escuro ou virar a cara para o sol, alternar as duas posturas, gastar e consumir, amealhar e multiplicar. Somos tudo isso. Nossa anistia ou nossa aniquilação. Não é só culpa dos outros se ficamos truncados. Em cada estágio podemos colocar algum traço, algum ponto, alguma cor no projeto de quem pretendemos ser. Podemos ser obrigados a usar disfarces, mas no centro de nós mesmos ressoa o nome que nos dermos: a nossa chancela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Perdas e Ganhos&lt;br /&gt;LYA LUFT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-116697448341094100?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/116697448341094100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=116697448341094100&amp;isPopup=true' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116697448341094100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116697448341094100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/12/nesse-curso-entendi-que-vida-no-tece.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-116363823907457795</id><published>2006-11-15T21:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T21:50:39.323-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/hitler.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/hitler.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Preconceito é uma atitude discriminatória que baseia conhecimentos surgidos em determinado momento como se revelassem verdades sobre pessoas ou lugares determinados. Costuma indicar desconhecimento pejorativo de alguém ao que lhe é diferente. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As formas mais comuns de preconceito são o social, racial e sexual.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu to revoltada, to furiosa... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Odeio a ignorância!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você pode se iludir&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas ilusão custa caro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pode até se divertir&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Como um animal adestrado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você tem direito a ter um advogado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você pode fala&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;rMas é melhor ficar calado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A verdade é cruel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas é melhor que seja dita&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu vou cuspir pro céu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que ao menos me refresca a vista&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você pode pensar o que bem entender&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas é melhor tomar cuidado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que alguém pode se ofender&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mundo cão, mundo cão&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não estou vendo nada novo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mundo cão, todos estão&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com uma coleira no pescoço&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ninguém mandou ficar de quatro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ninguém mandou&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você pode ir em frente&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas não pode olhar pros lados&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pode até comprar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que não queria ter comprado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pode ter razão&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mas não pode estar certo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você pode se mexer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas é melhor ficar quieto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A verdade liberta&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A verdade é essa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-116363823907457795?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/116363823907457795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=116363823907457795&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116363823907457795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116363823907457795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/11/preconceito-uma-atitude-discriminatria.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-116209193810982638</id><published>2006-10-28T23:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T00:18:58.163-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/nosss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/nosss.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Three little birds, sat on my window&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And they told me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't need to worry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Summer came like cinnamon ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;so sweet,Little girls double-dutch on the concrete.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maybe sometimes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We’ve got it wrong, but it's alright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The more things seem to change,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;the more they stay the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh, don't you hesitate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Girl, put your records on,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tell me your favourite song.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You go ahead, let your hair down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sapphire and faded jeans,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hope you get your dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just go ahead, let your hair down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Blue as the sky,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;sunburnt and lonely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sipping tea in the bar by the road side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(just relax, just relax)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Don't you let those other boys fool you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gotta love that afro hairdo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maybe sometimes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;we feel afraid, but it's alright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The more you stay the same,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;the more they seem to change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Don't you think it's strange?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Girl, put your records on,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tell me your favourite song.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You go ahead, let your hair down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sapphire and faded jeans,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hope you get your dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just go ahead, let your hair down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just more than I could take,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;pity for pity's sake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Some nights kept me awake,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I thought that I was stronger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;When you gonna realize,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;that you don't even have to try any longer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Do what you want to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Girl, put your records on,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tell me your favourite song.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You go ahead, let your hair down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(go let your hair down)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sapphire and faded jeans,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hope you get your dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(hope get your dreams)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just go ahead, let your hair down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; (Baby, let your hair down)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Que musiquinha boa de fazer dancinhas típicas minhas. E bah vontade de sair por aí bem tranquilamente  (a palavra tranquilo e suas variantes, SEMPRE me lembram a Plim, que me acordou as 4h da madruga =] ) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Falando com a Fê nesse momento,exatamente sobre a "vibe" dessa música. (Aliás, música me lembra que semana que vem tchan tchan tchan GUITAR HERO 2)!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Essa música me dá vontade de pegar um vento, queria que o vento fosse colorido...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-116209193810982638?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/116209193810982638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=116209193810982638&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116209193810982638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116209193810982638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/10/three-little-birds-sat-on-my-windowand.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-116138140757613225</id><published>2006-10-20T18:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T18:56:47.590-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/020.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pensamento é livre..não tem limite nem de tempo nem de espaço..posso pensa numa pessoa que ta la no outro lado do mundo e numa que ta bem do meu lado que pode nem se dar por conta e penso nas duas com a mesma velocidade... By Kaká &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gostei disso!&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Falando em pensamento... como a vida da gente pode mudar num piscar de olhos... como não se tem o controle de nada... dá medo se parar pra pensar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-116138140757613225?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/116138140757613225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=116138140757613225&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116138140757613225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116138140757613225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/10/pensamento-livre.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-116102637107704354</id><published>2006-10-16T16:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T16:19:31.096-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/pic_main_56.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/pic_main_56.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;[...] eu tenho uma porção de coisas pra te dizer, dessas coisas assim que não se dizem costumeiramente, sabe, dessas coisas tão difíceis de serem ditas que geralmente ficam caladas, porque nunca se sabe nem como serão ditas nem como serão ouvidas, compreende? [...]Se eu não te disser agora talvez não diga nunca mais, porque tanto eu como você sentiremos uma falta enorme de todas essas coisas, e se elas não chegarem á ser ditas nem eu nem você nos sentiremos satisfeitos com tudo que existimos, por que elas não foram existidas completamente, entende, porque as vivemos apenas naquela dimensão em que é permitido viver, não, não é isso que eu quero dizer, não existe uma dimensão permitida e uma outra proibida, indevassável, não me entenda mal, mas é que a gente tem tanto medo de penetrar naquilo que não sabe se terá coragem de viver, no mais fundo, eu quero dizer, é isso mesmo, você está acompanhando o meu raciocínio? Existe coisas que a gente ainda não pensou, que a gente talvez nunca pense, eu, por exemplo, nunca pensei que houvesse alguma coisa a dizer além de tudo o que já foi dito, ou melhor, pensei sim, não, pensar propriamente não, mas eu sabia, que havia uma outra coisa atrás e além de nossas mãos dadas[...] A nossa diferença fundamental é que você era capaz apenas de viver as superfícies, enquanto eu era capaz de ir ao mais fundo, de não sentir medo desse mais fundo [...] Eu me perguntava até que ponto você era aquilo que eu via em você ou apenas aquilo que eu queria ver em você, eu queria saber até que ponto você não era apenas uma projeção daquilo que eu sentia, e, se era assim, até quando eu conseguiria ver em você todas essas coisas que me fascinavam e no fundo, sempre no fundo, talvez nem fossem suas, mas minhas [...] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-116102637107704354?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/116102637107704354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=116102637107704354&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116102637107704354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116102637107704354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-116050838905348264</id><published>2006-10-10T15:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T16:26:29.120-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Não é Natal, nem ano bom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nem um sinal no céu, nenhum Armagedom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nenhuma data especial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nenhum ET brincando aqui no meu quintal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nada de mais, nada de mal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Ninguém comigo além da solidão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nem mesmo um verso original&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Pra te dizer e começar uma canção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Só chamei porque te amo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Só chamei porque é grande a paixão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Só chamei porque te amo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Lá bem fundo, fundo do meu coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nem carnaval, nem São João&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nenhum balão no céu nem luar no sertão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nenhuma foto no jornal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nenhuma nota na coluna social&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nenhuma múmia se mexeu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nenhum milagre da ciência aconteceu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Nenhum motivo nem razão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Quando a saudade vem não tem explicação ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tristesse...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;me deixem só!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-116050838905348264?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/116050838905348264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=116050838905348264&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116050838905348264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/116050838905348264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/10/no-natal-nem-ano-bom-nem-um-sinal-no.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115997952551323413</id><published>2006-10-04T13:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T13:32:05.540-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/Crueles_intenciones.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/Crueles_intenciones.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Você pensa que faz o que quer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não faz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;E que quer fazer o que faz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não quer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tá pensando que DEUS vais ajudar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não vai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Que que há males que vêm para o bem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não vêm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Você acha que ela há de voltar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não há&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Que  ao menos alguém vai escapar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ninguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Paro pra pensar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Mas não penso mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;De um minuto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sem pensar em alguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Que não pára pra pensar em ninguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Você acha que eu tenho demais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Robei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Você acha que eu sou capaz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Matei &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cachorro comedor de ovelha, só matando. To muito nova pra morrer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;=)~&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;# &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pato Fu- Anormal : é um amor essa música. Ouçam!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115997952551323413?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115997952551323413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115997952551323413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115997952551323413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115997952551323413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/10/voc-pensa-que-faz-o-que-querno-faze.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115898303870515599</id><published>2006-09-23T00:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-23T00:43:59.766-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/AF428.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/AF428.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tira essa dor do peito, anda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;despe essa roupa preta e manda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;seu corpo deslembrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Canta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vira dor pelo avesso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Canta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;larga essa vida assim as tontas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Deixa esse desenganar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Calma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dê o tempo ao tempo, calma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;alma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Põe cada coisa em seu lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E o dia virá, algum dia virá&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sem aviso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;então...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Saudade de ti Plim, a gente precisa conversar... &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/20586836-115898303870515599?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115898303870515599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115898303870515599&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115898303870515599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115898303870515599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/09/andatira-essa-dor-do-peito-andadespe.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115826698170222548</id><published>2006-09-14T17:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T17:49:42.076-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/grease.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/grease.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You're the one that I want.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(you are the one i want),&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hu , hu, hu, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;honey&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é porque eu sujei a roupa bem agora que eu já estava saindo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nem mesmo por que eu peguei o maior trânsito e acabei perdendo o cinema&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é por que não acho o papel onde anotei o telefone que estou precisando&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nem mesmo o dedo que eu cortei abrindo a lata e ainda continua sangrando&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é por que fui mal na prova de geometria e periga d'eu repetir de ano&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nem mesmo o meu carro que parou de madrugada só por falta de gasolina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é por que tá muito frio, não é por que tá muito calor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é por que eu sei que ela não virá que eu não veja a porta já se abrindo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E que eu não queira tê- la, mesmo que não tenha a mínima lógica esse raciocínio&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é que eu esteja procurando no infinito a sorte&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Para andar comigo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se a fé remove até montanhas, o desejo é o que torna o irreal possível&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é por isso que eu não possa estar feliz, sorrindo e cantando&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é por isso que ela não possa estar feliz, sorrindo e cantando&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não vou dizer que eu não ligo, eu digo o que eu sinto e o que eu sou&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é por que eu quis e eu não fiz&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é por que não fui&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E eu não vou!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&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/20586836-115826698170222548?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115826698170222548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115826698170222548&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115826698170222548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115826698170222548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/09/youre-one-that-i-want.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115800651995410290</id><published>2006-09-11T17:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T17:28:40.006-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/pic_main_13.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/pic_main_13.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;When everything's made to be broken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I just want you to know who I am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; Entende?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Glosoli me faz viajar muito longe... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mas pra ser sincera, eu nunca estive por aquí mesmo!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Saudade. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Quer morar comigo?&lt;/span&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/20586836-115800651995410290?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115800651995410290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115800651995410290&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115800651995410290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115800651995410290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/09/when-everythings-made-to-be-brokeni.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115774534861746364</id><published>2006-09-08T15:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T16:55:48.693-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/pic_main_55.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/pic_main_55.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;E hoje em dia, como é que se diz eu te amo?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;..tenho por princípios &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nunca fechar portas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas como mantê-las abertas  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;O tempo todo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se em certos dias o vento &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quer derrubar tudo?...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"Eu me acostumo, mas não amanso."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Clarice. óbvio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115774534861746364?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115774534861746364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115774534861746364&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115774534861746364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115774534861746364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/09/e-hoje-em-dia-como-que-se-diz-eu-te.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115714277491807148</id><published>2006-09-01T17:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T01:53:38.156-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/peixe.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/peixe.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; This is the moment that you know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;That you told you loved her but you don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You touch her skin and then you think&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;That she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yeah, she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I spent two weeks in Silverlake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The California sun cascading down my face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There was a girl with light brown streaks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And she was beautiful but she didn't mean a thing to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yeah she was beautiful but she didn't mean a thing to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wanted to believe in all the words that i was speaking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As we moved together in the dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And all the friends that i was telling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And all the playful misspellings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And every bite i gave you left a mark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tiny vessels oozed into your neck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And formed the bruises&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;That you said you didn't want to fade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But they did and so did i that day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;All i see are dark grey clouds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In the distance moving closer with every hour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So when you ask "was something wrong?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;That i think "you're damn right there is but we can't talk about it now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; No, we can't talk about it now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"So one last touch and then you'll go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And we'll pretend that it meant something so much more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But it was vile, and it was cheap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yeah you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Death Cab For Cutie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&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/20586836-115714277491807148?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115714277491807148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115714277491807148&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115714277491807148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115714277491807148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/09/this-is-moment-that-you-knowthat-you.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115463228630726979</id><published>2006-08-03T15:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T16:11:26.496-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/AF576.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/AF576.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Die Welt ist meine Vorstellung&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;“O mundo constitui o inferno, e os homens dividem-se em dois grupos: de um lado ficam os atormentados e, do outro, os demônios." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Todos viemos ao mundo cheios de pretensões&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de felicidade e prazer, e conservamos a insensata esperança&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de fazê-las valer, até que o destino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;nos aferra bruscamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e nos mostra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;que nada é nosso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas tudo é dele. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Momento Schopenhauer, adoro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Momento beijos expressos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Momento...&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/20586836-115463228630726979?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115463228630726979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115463228630726979&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115463228630726979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115463228630726979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/08/die-welt-ist-meine-vorstellung-o-mundo.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115387128733102838</id><published>2006-07-25T20:32:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T20:48:07.473-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/DSC02905.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/DSC02905.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Guaíba, fim de tarde de sábado... Perfeito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O cérebro é uma circunvolução muito engenhosa instalada no crânio dos animais. Parece que também em algumas árvores e pedras, mas deixa isso pra depois.&lt;br /&gt;O cérebro, ao contrário do que pensam os seres humanos, foi dado a todos os animais para impedir que qualquer conhecimento a respeito do universo chegasse a seu alcance. Um filtro. O cérebro humano, porém, atingiu tal complexidade que começou a falhar e permitiu ao homem o conhecimento de duas ou três besteiras que não ajudaram em nada. Nenhuma elaboração oriunda do cérebro serviu para tornar o ser humano mais feliz e o conhecimento de meia dúzia de premonições tolas_ como a certeza da morte _ o tornaram o mais infeliz dos animais.&lt;br /&gt;O cérebro serve ainda pra algumas pessoas serem ou se julgarem intelectualmente muito superiores às outras, quer dizer, muito cerebrais. Funciona aproximadamente 24 horas por dia_ mais ou menos como uma caixa automática de banco_ e é quase tão supervalorizado quanto o poder do dinheiro ou um comando militar. Millôr&lt;br /&gt;___________________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Porque a vida é uma só...&lt;br /&gt;desrespeitarei meus semelhantes sempre que necessário&lt;br /&gt;guardarei mágoas e rancores&lt;br /&gt;provocarei e chatearei meus amigos nos meus dias de t.p.m&lt;br /&gt;não aceitarei opiniões que eu considere medíocres&lt;br /&gt;no caso acima, minhas opiniões prevalecerão&lt;br /&gt;não levarei em consideração os conselhos alheios&lt;br /&gt;desprezarei conservadores, alienados e radicais&lt;br /&gt;serei idiota e infantil quando bem desejar&lt;br /&gt;brincarei de roleta russa com os sentimentos dos outros sempre que perceber que estes são falsos&lt;br /&gt;lutarei com unhas e dentes por um amor/ amizade, sempre que eu achar que valha a pena&lt;br /&gt;perderei o bom senso diante da imbecilidade&lt;br /&gt;errarei e recomeçarei sempre que preciso&lt;br /&gt;questionarei todas as verdades absolutas&lt;br /&gt;E quando todos acreditarem em minhas ideologias e em meus argumentos, mudarei de idéia!!!&lt;br /&gt;A vida é agora, o futuro é uma hipótese e no fim cada um terá a inquisição que merecer... Eu também terei a minha!!!&lt;br /&gt;...E tá tudo lá... nos cadernos, na agenda e bem que alguém podia achar legal e talz...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ego gigante, preciso melhorar isso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115387128733102838?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115387128733102838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115387128733102838&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115387128733102838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115387128733102838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/07/guaba-fim-de-tarde-de-sbado.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115359384673530666</id><published>2006-07-22T15:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-22T15:44:06.766-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/sem%20t??tulo.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/sem%20t%3F%3Ftulo.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Era eu a convencer-te que gostas de mim&lt;br /&gt;e tu a convenceres-te que não é bem assim...&lt;br /&gt;Era eu a mostrar-te o meu lado mais puro&lt;br /&gt;e tu a argumentares os teus inevitáveis&lt;br /&gt;Eras tu a dançares em pleno dia&lt;br /&gt;e eu encostado como quem não vê&lt;br /&gt;Eras tu a falar para esconder a saudade&lt;br /&gt;e eu a esconder-me do que não se dizia&lt;br /&gt;... afinal quebramos os dois...&lt;br /&gt;Desviando os olhos por sentir a verdade&lt;br /&gt;juravas a certeza da mentira&lt;br /&gt;mas sem queimar demais&lt;br /&gt;sem querer extinguir o que já se sabia&lt;br /&gt;Eu fugia do toque como do cheiro&lt;br /&gt;por saber que era o fim da roupa vestida&lt;br /&gt;que inventara no meio do escuro onde estava&lt;br /&gt;por ver o desespero na cor que trazias...&lt;br /&gt;... afinal quebramos os dois...&lt;br /&gt;Era eu a despir-te do que era pequeno&lt;br /&gt;e tu a puxares-me para um lado mais perto&lt;br /&gt;onde contamos histórias que nos atam&lt;br /&gt;ao silêncio dos lábios que nos mata...!&lt;br /&gt;Eras tu a ficar por não saber partir...&lt;br /&gt;e eu a rezar para que desaparecesses...&lt;br /&gt;Era eu a rezar para que ficasses..&lt;br /&gt;e tu a ficares enquanto saías.&lt;br /&gt;... não nos tocamos enquanto saías.&lt;br /&gt;não nos tocamos enquanto saímos.&lt;br /&gt;não nos tocamos e vamos fugindo&lt;br /&gt;porque quebramos como crianças&lt;br /&gt;...afinal quebramos os dois...&lt;br /&gt;...e é quase pecado o que se deixa...&lt;br /&gt;...quase pecado o que se ignora...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115359384673530666?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115359384673530666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115359384673530666&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115359384673530666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115359384673530666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/07/era-eu-convencer-te-que-gostas-de-mim.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115343391803210965</id><published>2006-07-20T18:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T19:25:25.020-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;SE PERGUNTAREM POR MIM DIGAM:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Que as raízes de meus ventos dispersaram tantas quimeras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;mas que os vendavais de meus dias não perderam suas cores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;que o sol, o mar e as areias da praia fluem em mim como os acordes de Debussy num fim de tarde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;que todos os azuis e verdes, às vezes, me habitam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;que, às vezes, sou uma pobre noite sem estrelas puras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;que meus duendes teimam em desfilar sorridentes por todos os meus rios &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;que meus sonhos de tão vagos não encontraram janelas nem portas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Casa de uma amiga:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;_ Sabe "Lívia", eu tava pensando... Eu preciso mudar esse meu jeito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Quer dizer, não é que eu seja uma pessoa... tu sabe... Mas é que eu sou muito...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;_ É, tu é muito, muuuito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;/risada diabólica afu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;* talvez eu brinque com os sentimentos como quem brinca de roleta russa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115343391803210965?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115343391803210965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115343391803210965&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115343391803210965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115343391803210965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/07/se-perguntarem-por-mim-digamque-as.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115297847885181171</id><published>2006-07-15T12:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-15T12:48:01.756-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/uni%20016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/uni%20016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt; Os anjos gritam comigo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ela não tem que dar razões, nem ser pesarosa, é só demasiado drama... Como uma auto-agressão/ auto-diversão. Há quem goste de tudo! Repetidamente ela olha pros dois lados, e acredite, ela gosta muito do que vê. Descobre um mundo de sensações surpreendentes e cala. Ela odeia dividir. É livre, e guarda isso em segredo, teme que rompam sua liberdade.  Então mantenha uma distância segura. Mas segure-se nela, não deixe ela ir embora. Sugiro que dê-lhe licença quando ela quizer passar... A paixão é criação, a arte começa primeiro dentro da sua mente, o que você via era uma tela em branco, deixe ela transformar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;(adoro escrever sobre mim em terceira pessoa, nem td faz sentido, eu sou "insana" como diria o Iuri, não dêem bola é só um exercício pra minha mente criativa)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"O homem é menos ele mesmo quando fala na sua própria pessoa. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dê-lhe uma máscara e ele dirá a verdade" - Oscar Wilde&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115297847885181171?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115297847885181171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115297847885181171&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115297847885181171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115297847885181171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/07/os-anjos-gritam-comigo.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115291147043413376</id><published>2006-07-14T17:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T18:11:10.450-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/cab-unisinos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/cab-unisinos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;Patos selvagens são o que há, adoro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Ah, tanta coisa que queria falar... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Queria que ontem não tivesse acabado sabe? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Que o dia durasse uma semana, porque eu tava me divertindo e tava tão feliz e tão...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Ai ai, sei lá... Perspectivas mudando. Como é bom ver as pessoas sob a luz do sol às vezes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tá, sem mais exposição.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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/20586836-115291147043413376?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115291147043413376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115291147043413376&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115291147043413376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115291147043413376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/07/patos-selvagens-so-o-que-h-adoro.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115273951943289974</id><published>2006-07-12T18:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T18:25:19.453-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/70526577_521f48ce5e_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/70526577_521f48ce5e_o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;Nothing really matters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;Anyone can see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;Nothing really matters &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt; nothing really matters to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; Crianças que vendem flor na parada de ônibus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; Puxo assunto com elas. Rapidamente elas parecem me adorar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; Caminhão da coca- cola (o natal vem vindo, vem vindo o natal)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;_Hei criançada aquele alí de camisa vermelha é papai- noél. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; As crianças estragam toda a camiseta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; O dono da camiseta fica bem brabo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; Vem o ônibus e elas se despedem de mim me dando um abraço coletivo e      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; uma rosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; Adoro crianças =)~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; Adoro ser a Vanessa/ adorei essa noite/ como o Beco tem histórias...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; Que ressaca divertida!!! Sem comentários...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115273951943289974?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115273951943289974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115273951943289974&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115273951943289974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115273951943289974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/07/nothing-really-mattersanyone-can.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115256926012077457</id><published>2006-07-10T17:04:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T19:07:40.196-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/DSC03507.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/DSC03507.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não leve a mal, é só um "desabafo" já passa, tchau. Vamos ser felizes então, to precisando te/ me deixar um pouco em paz! Andei invadindo teu espaço, andei passando dos limites. Tava tudo tão alí na minha frente, acho que prefiri não ver que essa história já tinha um ponto e eu enxergava três... Minha marra não me deixa abandonar o barco, volta e meia tento encostar no teu porto, mas teu mar é revolto, as ondas me arrastam não consigo ancorar. E tudo fica assim, sem mais nem menos (by vah)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E eu pensei: talvez você tenha me esquecido&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu só não consegui foi te acertar o coração&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De qualquer forma:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não vou viver, como alguém que só espera um novo amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há outras coisas no caminho onde eu vou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As vezes ando só, trocando passos com a solidão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Momentos que são meus, e que não abro mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Já sei olhar o rio por onde a vida passa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sem me precipitar, e nem perder a hora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Escuto no silêncio que há em mim e basta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Outro tempo começou pra mim agora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Vou deixar a rua me levar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ver a cidade se acender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A lua vai banhar esse lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu vou lembrar você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É mas tenho ainda muita coisa pra arrumar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Promessas que me fiz e que ainda não cumpri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Palavras me aguardam o tempo exato pra falar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Coisas minhas, talvez você nem queira ouvir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não vá, ou vá&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você é quem quer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu desejo que desejes ser feliz de um modo possível e rápido, desejo que desejes uma via expressa rumo a realizações não utópicas, mas viáveis, que desejes coisas simples como um suco gelado depois de correr ou um abraço ao chegar em casa, desejo que desejes com discernimento e com alvos bem mirados.&lt;br /&gt;Mas desejo também que desejes com audácia, que desejes uns sonhos descabidos e que ao sabê-los impossíveis não os leve em grande consideração, mas os mantenha acesos, livres de frustração, desejes com fantasia e atrevimento, estando alerta para as casualidades e os milagres, para o imponderável da vida, onde os desejos secretos são atendidos.&lt;br /&gt;Desejo que desejes trabalhar melhor, que desejes amar com menos amarras, que desejes parar de fumar, que desejes viajar para bem longe e desejes voltar para teu canto, desejo que desejes crescer e que desejes o choro e o silêncio, através deles somos puxados pra dentro, eu desejo que desejes ter a coragem de se enxergar mais nitidamente.&lt;br /&gt;Mas desejo também que desejes uma alegria incontida, que desejes mais amigos, e nem precisam ser melhores amigos, basta que sejam bons parceiros de esporte e de mesas de bar, que desejes o bar tanto quanto a igreja, mas que o desejo pelo encontro seja sincero, que desejes escutar as histórias dos outros, que desejes acreditar nelas e desacreditar também, faz parte este ir-e-vir de certezas e incertezas, que desejes não ter tantos desejos concretos, que o desejo maior seja a convivência pacífica com outros que desejam outras coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Desejo que desejes alguma mudança, uma mudança que seja necessária e que ela não te pese na alma, mudanças são temidas, mas não há outro combustível para essa travessia. Desejo que desejes um ano inteiro de muitos meses bem fechados, que nada fique por fazer, e desejo, principalmente, que desejes desejar, que te permitas desejar, pois o desejo é vigoroso e gratuito, o desejo é inocente, não reprima teus pedidos ocultos, desejo que desejes vitórias, romances, diagnósticos favoráveis, mais dinheiro e sentimentos vários, mas desejo, antes de tudo, que desejes, simplesmente.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Martha Medeiros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mostra a tua antiga personalidade pro teu novo "amor". Não priva ele disso, é a coisa mais especial em ti, juro.                                                    &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/20586836-115256926012077457?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115256926012077457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115256926012077457&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115256926012077457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115256926012077457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/07/no-leve-mal-s-um-desabafo-j-passa.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115239899378116355</id><published>2006-07-08T19:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T14:19:16.050-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/fogo%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/fogo%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O DIABO PRECISA DE FOGO...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Odeio essa minha eterna insatisfação, descontentamento. Abismo infinito... Tédio, ócio, falta de rumo, paixão, diversão. Essa doença privada, de quem não sabe o que quer. E depois também, nem é só isso... Tenho feito tudo errado, e cada vez mais. To presa na minha própria teia e não consigo escapar. No fim, dar atenção pra todas as pessoas e não dar atenção pra nenhuma dá no mesmo, não faz a menor diferença, é um puta disperdício, e eu me disperdiço demais. E erro... Erro muito, o tempo todo eu estou errando, mas isso não faz de mim uma má pessoa, eu tento acertar, as vezes me perco no caminho, mas mesmo assim... Sei lá. Acho que minha mania de estar sempre na defensiva me afasta de todo mundo. Todo mundo que eu podia conhecer muito mais e que podia me conhecer também, mas nunca conhecem, porque eu não deixo, eu me afasto ou afasto os outros. Na verdade acho tudo muito superficial, isso me cansa afuu. E essa minha tendência à relações impossíveis, sério, porque sempre as pessoas impossíveis? Porque não aquelas que estão alí bem perto esperando uma chance? Nem tudo precisa ser desafiador né? Mas e aí, que graça teria? O maior erro de todos? Pensar demais... Eu me considero uma das pessoas mais fortes que existem e sempre me orgulho muito disso, mas porque ser forte? Parece que os fracos sempre conseguem mais coisas, porque pedem, porque choram... Eu não preciso ser auto-suficiente, eu não preciso ser "superior", mas então eu já não seria mais eu. Trocar o papel de vilã pelo da mocinha bem que seria interessante... Eu podia ao menos dar um pouco mais de mim pra quem realmente importa. Eu podia ao menos ter aceitado o que quizeram me dar e eu estupidamente recusei, e eu não sei nem porque. Na real eu sei extamente porque!!! Também a vida é deixar rolar, a gente não controla nada, e que se foda. Não vim ao mundo pra sofrer, eu quero é ser feliz.  Tudo que faço é porque posso. Aliás todos podem o que quizerem, afinal existe uma pseudo-liberdade não é? Então digamos que eu estou disposta a fazer algumas coisas em pró da minha liberdade, afinal o que as pessoas estão fazendo, lutando pela delas. Isso é tudo, ponto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O diabo definitivamente precisa de fogo ;)~&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115239899378116355?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115239899378116355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115239899378116355&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115239899378116355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115239899378116355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/07/o-diabo-precisa-de-fogo.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115221281430111933</id><published>2006-07-06T15:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T16:06:54.386-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/marypadiego%20068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/marypadiego%20068.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dont stop me now!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;EU QUERO A CRÊ!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;(master saudadeeee)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115221281430111933?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115221281430111933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115221281430111933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115221281430111933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115221281430111933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/07/dont-stop-me-now.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115204440633471585</id><published>2006-07-04T17:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T17:20:06.390-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/DSC05851.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/DSC05851.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Rifa-se um coração quase novo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um coração idealista.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um coração como poucos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um coração à moda antiga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um coração moleque que insiste em pregar peças no seu usuário.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Rifa-se um coração que na realidade está um pouco usado, meio calejado, muito machucado e que teima em alimentar sonhos e, cultivar ilusões.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um pouco inconseqüente que nunca desiste de acreditar nas pessoas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um leviano e precipitado coração que acha que Tim Maia estava certo quando escreveu..."...não quero dinheiro, eu quero amor sincero, é isso que eu espero...".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um idealista...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um sonhador...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Rifa-se um coração que nunca aprende.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Que não endurece, e mantém sempre viva a esperança de ser feliz, sendo simples e natural.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um coração insensato que comanda o racional sendo louco o suficiente para se apaixonar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um furioso suicida que vive procurando relações e emoções verdadeiras.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Rifa-se um coração que insiste em cometer sempre os mesmos erros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Esse coração que erra, briga, se expõe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Perde o juízo por completo em nome de causas e paixões.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sai do sério e, às vezes revê suas posições arrependido de palavras e gestos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Este coração tantas vezes incompreendido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tantas vezes provocado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tantas vezes impulsivo.&lt;br /&gt;Rifa-se este desequilibrado emocional que abre sorrisos tão largos que quase dá pra engolir as orelhas, mas que também arranca lágrimas e faz murchar o rosto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um coração para ser alugado, ou mesmo utilizado por quem gosta de emoções fortes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um órgão abestado indicado apenas para quem quer viver intensamente, contra indicado para os que apenas pretendem passar pela vida matando o tempo, defendendo-se das emoções.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Rifa-se um coração tão inocente que se mostra sem armaduras e deixa louco seu usuário.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um coração que quando parar de bater ouvirá o seu usuário dizer para São Pedro na hora da prestação de contas:- "O Senhor pode conferir. Eu fiz tudo certo, só errei quando coloquei sentimento. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Só fiz bobagens e me dei mal quando ouvi este louco coração de criança que insiste em não endurecer e, se recusa a envelhecer".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Rifa-se um coração, ou mesmo troca-se por outro que tenha um pouco mais de juízo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um órgão mais fiel ao seu usuário.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um amigo do peito que não maltrate tanto o ser que o abriga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um coração que não seja tão inconseqüente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Rifa-se um coração cego, surdo e mudo, mas que incomoda um bocado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um verdadeiro caçador de aventuras que ainda não foi adotado, provavelmente, por se recusar a cultivar ares selvagens ou racionais, por não querer perder o estilo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oferece-se um coração vadio, sem raça, sem pedigree.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um simples coração humano.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um impulsivo membro de comportamento até meio ultrapassado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um modelo cheio de defeitos que, mesmo estando fora do mercado, faz questão de não se modernizar, mas vez por outra, constrange o corpo que o domina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um velho coração que convence seu usuário a publicar seus segredos e a ter a petulância de se aventurar como poeta".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Clarice Lispector&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;foto/ casa da Jô.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115204440633471585?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115204440633471585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115204440633471585&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115204440633471585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115204440633471585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/07/rifa-se-um-corao-quase-novo.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115169897822297272</id><published>2006-06-30T17:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T17:22:58.353-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/festa%20hic%20002.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/festa%20hic%20002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" Mas o vazio tem o valor e a semelhança do pleno. Um meio de obter é não procurar, um meio de ter é o de não pedir e somente acreditar que o silêncio que eu creio em mim é a resposta a meu - a meu mistério."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Não fale desse jeito comigo que eu não gosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Eu tô fingindo calma com a alma carregada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Não fale desse jeito comigo que eu não quero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Não se meta nem comigo nem com o povo que eu paquero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Não fale desse jeito comigo que eu detesto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Tão dizendo nas esquinas, nas quebradas, é que eu não presto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Esse calor que sai de você embaçou o meu retrovisor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Você não quer que eu olhe pra trás e diz que o passado já passou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Esse calor que sai do cigarro que você fuma falando de amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Não fale mais, o futuro é a arma da ilusão que foi você que carregou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Não fale desse jeito comigo que eu atiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Eu tô num dia lindo com minha nuvem carregada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Que não cruze o meu caminho quem me despreza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Na guerra eu tô no meu direito e já inventei a minha reza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Eu jogo pra ganhar e de ninguém eu tiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;E se não escutou, eu uso o berro, eu uso o grito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Não fale desse jeito comigo que eu não gosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Não fale desse jeito comigo que eu não quero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Não fale desse jeito comigo que eu detesto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Não fale desse jeito comigo que eu não gosto &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; dark side  &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/20586836-115169897822297272?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115169897822297272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115169897822297272&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115169897822297272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115169897822297272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/06/mas-o-vazio-tem-o-valor-e-semelhana-do.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115160834404222052</id><published>2006-06-29T15:33:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T16:12:24.120-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/EternalSunshine.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/EternalSunshine.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;"Eu estou exatamentente onde quero estar"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Feliz o destino da inocente vestal&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Esquecendo o mundo e sendo por ele esquecida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Brilho eterno de uma mente sem lembranças&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Toda prece é ouvida, toda graça se alcança"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Alexander Pope)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Com certeza brilho eterno foi uma das coisas mais lindas que já ví. Estranho porque algumas pessoas simplesmente não foram "tocadas" pelo filme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Mas eu sim... Eu Vah bixa sim e muito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Mudando a história, tava lendo o texto do Iuri: "Talvez o nada seja uma mulher."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E sim Iuri, tá tudo interligado. Porque nós "super pensantes" temos essas visões amplificadas das coisas? Acho que isso não é justo. Sério!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Lí também que meu eterno namorado não passou no vestibular pra um tal curso de Formação de escritores????? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Lí teu texto e sinceramente ADOREI, achei bem bom. Aliás tu é muuito criativo. Então na boa, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;me explica porque diabos tu faria um curso pra "formação de escritores". Não acredito que possam formar escritores. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Acredito que se tem um dom pra isso. Eu acho que tu tem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Formar escritores, tsc tsc , faça-me o favor, a unisinos anda superando!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;By the way, baby melhorou da pedrinha? E quando vamos tomar aquele café? Novidade: não estou gripada \o/. (saudades...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Voltando a brilho eterno: Se tu pudesse apagar alguém da memória, quem tu apagaria?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Nem toda dor merece grito,  anda em silêncio nas ruas e cala a tua angústia. Tua filha te abandona e tu reza a noite inteira. Que os santos te ajudem mulher!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Ela anda tão perdida que esqueceu até aquele teu casaco marrom, presente da tia dulce. Aquele com uma costura grossa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Andou se apaixonando por um rapaz, coitada! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Deu bixo ruim, como quase todos né cumadre?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Didia anda cabisbaixa, mas nem sabe o que lhe causa. Desculpa esfarrada pra passá a noite em claro, e olha que ela ri que nem sei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Nem toda dor merece grito cumadre. Volta pra casa, que já passa das dez...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Caralhoo meu ego vai explodir!!!! =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&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/20586836-115160834404222052?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115160834404222052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115160834404222052&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115160834404222052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115160834404222052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/06/eu-estou-exatamentente-onde-quero.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115152529791612815</id><published>2006-06-28T17:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T17:08:17.933-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/euvah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/euvah.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que que o sol nasceu de novo e não amanheceu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que que Deus criou o homem e não se arrependeu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que que a crença no futuro é fatal e a serpente simboliza o mal?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que que tudo que é bonito está trancado no museu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que que eu nasci assim e meu irmão assado?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que beber wisk-soda prá ficar animado?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que que o tempo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Deixa tudo prá trás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e sempre que você consegue quer mais?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que na hora do naufrágio cada um vai pro seu lado?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que que eu tenho uma caneta e não sei escrever?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que eu passo a noite inteira sem nada para ler?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que que a agulha da vitrola sumiu e o anúncio do cinema caiu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Por que que eu faço essas perguntas sem ninguém&lt;/span&gt; prá responder?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115152529791612815?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115152529791612815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115152529791612815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115152529791612815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115152529791612815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/06/por-que-que-o-sol-nasceu-de-novo-e-no.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115134960941493171</id><published>2006-06-26T16:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T16:20:09.433-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/ceu-avermelhado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/ceu-avermelhado.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Para além da orelha existe um som, à extremidade do olhar um aspecto, às pontas dos dedos um objeto - é para lá que eu vou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;À ponta do lápis o traço. Onde expira um pensamento está uma idéia, ao derradeiro hálito de alegria uma outra alegria, à ponta da espada a magia - é para lá que eu vou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Na ponta dos pés o salto. Parece a história de alguém que foi e não voltou - é para lá que eu vou. Ou não vou? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Vou, sim. E volto para ver como estão as coisas. Se continuam mágicas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Realidade? eu vos espero. E para lá que eu vou. Na ponta da palavra está a palavra. Quero usar a palavra "tertúlia" e não sei aonde e quando. À beira da tertúlia está a família. À beira da família estou eu. À beira de eu estou mim. É para mim que eu vou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E de mim saio para ver. Ver o quê? ver o que existe. Depois de morta é para a realidade que vou. Por enquanto é sonho. Sonho fatídico. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mas depois - depois tudo é real. E a alma livre procura um canto para se acomodar. Mim é um eu que anuncio. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não sei sobre o que estou falando. Estou falando de nada. Eu sou nada. Depois de morta engrandecerei e me espalharei, e alguém dirá com amor meu nome. É para o meu pobre nome que vou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E de lá volto para chamar o nome do ser amado e dos filhos. Eles me responderão. Enfim terei uma resposta. Que resposta? a do amor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Amor: eu vos amo tanto. Eu amo o amor. O amor é vermelho. O ciúme é verde. Meus olhos são verdes. Mas são verdes tão escuros que na fotografia saem negros. Meu segredo é ter os olhos verdes e ninguém saber.&lt;br /&gt; À extremidade de mim estou eu. Eu, implorante, eu a que necessita, a que pede, a que chora, a que se lamenta. Mas a que canta. A que diz palavras. Palavras ao vento? que importa, os ventos as trazem de novo e eu as possuo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Eu à beira do vento. O morro dos ventos uivantes me chama. Vou, bruxa que sou. E me transmuto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh, cachorro, cadê tua alma? está à beira de teu corpo? Eu estou à beira de meu corpo. E feneço lentamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Que estou eu a dizer? Estou dizendo amor. E à beira do amor estamos nós.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="P" href="http://www.orkut.com/Profile.aspx?uid=12186593529174359756"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115134960941493171?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115134960941493171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115134960941493171&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115134960941493171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115134960941493171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/06/para-alm-da-orelha-existe-um-som.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115109350020572447</id><published>2006-06-23T16:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T17:14:04.436-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/MY004612.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/MY004612.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POR NÃO ESTAREM DISTRAÍDOS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Clarice Lispector&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Havia a levíssima embriaguez de andarem juntos, a alegria como quando se sente a garganta um pouco seca e se vê que, por admiração, se estava de boca entreaberta: eles respiravam de antemão o ar que estava à frente, e ter esta sede era a própria água deles. Andavam por ruas e ruas falando e rindo, falavam e riam para dar matéria peso à levíssima embriaguez que era a alegria da sede deles. Por causa de carros e pessoas, às vezes eles se tocavam, e ao toque - a sede é a graça, mas as águas são uma beleza de escuras - e ao toque brilhava o brilho da água deles, a boca ficando um pouco mais seca de admiração. Como eles admiravam estarem juntos! Até que tudo se transformou em não. Tudo se transformou em não quando eles quiseram essa mesma alegria deles. Então a grande dança dos erros. O cerimonial das palavras desacertadas. Ele procurava e não via, ela não via que ele não vira, ela que, estava ali, no entanto. No entanto ele que estava ali. Tudo errou, e havia a grande poeira das ruas, e quanto mais erravam, mais com aspereza queriam, sem um sorriso. Tudo só porque tinham prestado atenção, só porque não estavam bastante distraídos. Só porque, de súbito exigentes e duros, quiseram ter o que já tinham. Tudo porque quiseram dar um nome; porque quiseram ser, eles que eram. Foram então aprender que, não se estando distraído, o telefone não toca, e é preciso sair de casa para que a carta chegue, e quando o telefone finalmente toca, o deserto da espera já cortou os fios. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tudo, tudo por não estarem mais distraídos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Clarice me agonia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Sim eu uso muito essa palavra: AGONIA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Lembrei de uma música do Djavan que tem uma frase que parece me descrever muito bem:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;"Nem que eu bebesse o mar, encheria o que eu tenho de fundo..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Lembrei de uma conversa recente que a Jô e eu tivemos, sobre o quanto somos eternas insatisfeitas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;E que a ignorância é o segredo da felicidade. (FATO)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Isso são só... sei lá, pensamentos soltos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Não canso de tentar me entender! Também não canso de lembrar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;=)~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Esquadros...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115109350020572447?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115109350020572447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115109350020572447&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115109350020572447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115109350020572447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/06/por-no-estarem-distrados-clarice.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115100460453239470</id><published>2006-06-22T16:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T16:30:04.576-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pronto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Agora que voltou tudo ao normal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Talvez você consiga ser menos rei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E um pouco mais real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Esqueça&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As horas nunca andam para trás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Todo dia é dia de aprender um pouco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Do muito que a vida traz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas muito pra mim é tão pouco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E pouco é um pouco demais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Viver tá me deixando louca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não sei mais do que sou capaz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gritando pra não ficar rouca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Em guerra lutando por paz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Muito pra mim é tão pouco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E pouco eu não quero (mais)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Chega!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não me condene pelo seu penar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pesos e medidas não servem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pra ninguém poder nos comparar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não pertenço ao mesmo lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Em que você se afunda tão raso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não dá nem pra tentar te salvar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Veja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A qualidade está inferior&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E não é a quantidade que faz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A estrutura de um grande amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Simplesmente seja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O que você julgar ser o melhor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas lembre-se que tudo que começa com muito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pode acabar muito pior&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;(essa música é maravilhosa e Maria rita cantando \o/)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Se quero grito &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Se não gosto, falo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Não engulo sapo, não engulo a dor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;A dor vomito, toda mágoa na privada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Nunca disse que eu era fácil, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;minha pose de princesa eu só deixo no  caixão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Procura outra boneca pra tua coleção!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&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/20586836-115100460453239470?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115100460453239470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115100460453239470&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115100460453239470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115100460453239470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/06/prontoagora-que-voltou-tudo-ao.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-115083178336661539</id><published>2006-06-20T15:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T15:02:10.556-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/moviescriptending.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/moviescriptending.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nobody Knows Me ...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando o mundo parece desmoronar em torno de mim e eu só vejo gente que não faz a menor diferença. Eu penso em ti e me sinto bem! As coisas não têm sido as mesmas desde então...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Mais e mais eu digo que não me importo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Que sou imune à escuridão, que sou forte cada vez mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Mas toda vez importa e todas as minhas palavras me abandonam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Então qualquer um pode me machucar, e eles me machucam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Pedir desculpas já nem cabe mais. =[&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-115083178336661539?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/115083178336661539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=115083178336661539&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115083178336661539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/115083178336661539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/06/nobody-knows-me.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114883273857235404</id><published>2006-05-28T12:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T13:12:18.586-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/1000imagens-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/1000imagens-thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Baby, baby &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I know that' s the way&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O dia tá muito lindo. Eu acordei muito de bom humor hoje.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Estranhamente estou com vontade de fazer muitas coisas, ou qualquer coisa, qualquer coisa mesmo.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sentar numa graminha e pegar um sol. Ou quem sabe dar uma caminhada com os amigos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Queria tanto ver o Maurício, to sentindo muita, muita falta dele. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Preciso conhecer o filho da Rocha, é ridículo eu ainda não conhecê-lo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Preciso ir a Pelotas passar uns dias com a Crê. Preciso arrumar tempo pra fazer as coisas. Ou parar de fingir que não tenho tempo pra nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Preciso parar de perder tempo com algumas coisas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Preciso passar mais tempo comigo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E é isso que eu vou fazer hoje. Passar algum tempo comigo e talvez até me divertir!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E vou escutar Baby, mil vezes, até cansar, mas eu nunca canso... Vontade de voar...&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/20586836-114883273857235404?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114883273857235404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114883273857235404&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114883273857235404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114883273857235404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/05/baby-baby-i-know-that-s-way-o-dia-t.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114832724560683430</id><published>2006-05-22T15:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T16:47:25.676-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/cartas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/cartas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O GRANDE JOGADOR&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ela acreditava que a sorte estava sempre a seu lado. Sempre apostou todas as suas fichas , pagou pra ver cada jogada de sua vida. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E o que é a vida senão um grande jogo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Não sabe  contar se ganhou mais do que perdeu... Talvez tenha empatado na maioria das vezes. Mas mesmo assim continua no jogo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt; Aliás, parar de jogar não era algo que ele teria cojitado. Sua precaução era semprer escolher bons jogadores. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E jogar... Jogar sempre... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt; Seguir jogando...Jogar porque &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Na vida vale a pena o risco da perda, que no fim é o mesmo risco que se corre pra ganhar: 50 x 50 !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Algumas vezes ela vai ganhar, outras vezes vai perder...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E de mais em mais,  só "não se perde o que não se tem", e o que se ganha é lucro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Será que ainda posso usar algum recurso, ou o juiz já deu a sentença?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu já gritei , eu me arrisquei,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu me queimei, eu fiz de tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu me pus no seu lugar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E se você não responder não fico mais nenhum segundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Nada vai me segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Não vou ficar marcando passo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Me diz agora se você vem comigo ou se vai ficar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu já tô largando tudo, caindo fora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Nada mais me prende aqui nesse lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tô mudando o meu destino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Joguei fora o que não presta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Agora eu quero mesmo e vou enlouquecer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;É hora da virada partir pro tudo ou nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu não tô com nem um tempo pra perder...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114832724560683430?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114832724560683430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114832724560683430&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114832724560683430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114832724560683430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/05/o-grande-jogador-ela-acreditava-que.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114808382238835393</id><published>2006-05-19T20:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T21:10:22.460-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/poste.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/poste.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“O meu mundo não é como o dos outros, quero demais, exijo demais, há em mim uma sede de infinito, uma angústia constante que nem eu mesma compreendo, pois estou longe de ser uma pessimista; sou antes uma exaltada, com uma alma intensa, violenta, atormentada, uma alma que não se sente bem onde está, que tem saudade...sei lá de quê!” &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não vou dizer que tudo é banalidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ainda há surpresas mas eu sempre quero mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;É mesmo exagero ou vaidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Eu não te dou sossego, eu não me deixo em paz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114808382238835393?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114808382238835393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114808382238835393&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114808382238835393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114808382238835393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/05/o-meu-mundo-no-como-o-dos-outros-quero.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114704728915207002</id><published>2006-05-07T21:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-05-07T21:14:49.216-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/DSC03501.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/DSC03501.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maybe this weight was a gift &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;like I had to see what I could lift&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*Do it again... eu podia ouvir até morrer, juuuro! (Nada Surf)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Várias agonias... Ai q droga, não sei o que anda acontecendo comigo!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114704728915207002?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114704728915207002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114704728915207002&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114704728915207002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114704728915207002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/05/maybe-this-weight-was-gift-like-i-had.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114668680013668493</id><published>2006-05-03T16:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T17:06:40.280-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/festa%20hic%20002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/festa%20hic%20002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Às vezes o tigre em mim se demonstra cruel como é próprio da espécie. Outras, cochila ou se enrosca em afago emoliente mas sempre tigre disfarçado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu já nem me preocupo com nada. Não é porque você dá as cartas que vai ganhar o jogo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Ela tá ficando mais velha. Nem parece a mesma, tão igual!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Lí "O homem dela" hoje. E esse texto do meu ex futuro marido. Me fez pensar em umas coisas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Mas no fim a gente deu boas risadas e ótimos beijos de despedida. Nossa, foram muitas despedidas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114668680013668493?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114668680013668493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114668680013668493&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114668680013668493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114668680013668493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/05/s-vezes-o-tigre-em-mim-se-demonstra.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114618184403876547</id><published>2006-04-27T20:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T20:50:44.053-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/raiva.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/raiva.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sério, eu não entendo como as máscaras caem e as pessoas se mostram tão filhas da mãe???&lt;br /&gt;Por quê???&lt;br /&gt;E porque as pessoas mentem tanto pra sentirem-se maiores???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To chateada, irritada, de saco cheio!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E porque a gente sempre é legal com a pessoa errada?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114618184403876547?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114618184403876547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114618184403876547&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114618184403876547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114618184403876547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/04/srio-eu-no-entendo-como-as-mscaras.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114511888023811114</id><published>2006-04-15T13:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T13:34:40.266-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/123.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Então foi sexta-feira santa. Seguida de um sábado de aleluia? E como será o domingo dos infernos?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tudo é uma questão de conseguirmos fazer malabarismo com os nossos sentimentos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me diz, quem é que consegue?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu entrego o jogo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E feliz páscoa para os católicos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu como bife na sexta-feira santa, sem remorsos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114511888023811114?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114511888023811114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114511888023811114&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114511888023811114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114511888023811114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/04/ento-foi-sexta-feira-santa.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114443936113531334</id><published>2006-04-07T16:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T16:49:21.886-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/la.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/la.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Like the naked leads the blind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I know I'm selfish, I'm unkind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sucker love I always find,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Someone to bruise and leave behind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Fuja.&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/20586836-114443936113531334?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114443936113531334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114443936113531334&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114443936113531334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114443936113531334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/04/like-naked-leads-blindi-know-im.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114392388219032717</id><published>2006-04-01T17:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-04-01T17:38:02.876-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/sem%20t??tulo.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/sem%20t%3F%3Ftulo.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Será ela o anoitecer ou a aurora?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Será o acaso ou o destino que à assusta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ela tem encontrado tesouros em seus silêncios. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eis o que é silêncio!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Coisas que permanecem inexpressas em seu coração, sonhos pra sonhar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ela sempre pensou que as estradas do amor fossem agrestes, ou jardins devastados pelo vento, inundados pela chuva. Porque da mesma forma que o amor é majestoso, ele é reles. Sobe às alturas e desce às raízes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ela teme se expor até a nudez de sua alma. Pensa dirigir o curso das suas emoções, determinar o próprio curso da vida. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Amor: ternura demasiada... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ela jamais cederia à isso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por longos anos ela cobriu o véu do amor. Porém, agora, ele grita. Ele está lá, dentro dela. E chama-te em voz alta. E quer revelar-se a ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;_ Mas agora? O momento é tardio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ela entende, e encara com excessiva frieza. Pois assim tem sido sempre com o amor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ele só conhece a sua própria profundidade na hora da separação.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ela não derramará nenhuma lágrima. Maiór é seu amor por sí mesma e pelo universo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eis o que és, um amor impossível!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;_ Amor?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;_ Ela não confiaria à guarda a um amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Então, és só parte de seus pensamentos. Sim, tens os pensamentos dela e não a alma. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pois sua alma mora na mansão do amanhã, e ninguém pode visitá-la, nem em sonhos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;_ E o amanhã o que trará?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bem, isso ela não sabe. Ela é só um grão de areia em busca do infinito...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girassóis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vincent Van Gogh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Leiam Cartas a Théo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114392388219032717?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114392388219032717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114392388219032717&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114392388219032717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114392388219032717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/04/ser-ela-o-anoitecer-ou-auroraser-o.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114322888574208155</id><published>2006-03-24T16:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T16:34:45.770-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/f3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/f3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saiba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saiba: todo mundo foi neném&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Einstein, Freud e Platão também&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hitler, Bush e Saddam Hussein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quem tem grana e quem não tem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saiba: todo mundo teve infância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maomé já foi criança&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Arquimedes, Buda, Galileu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e também você e eu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saiba: todo mundo teve medo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mesmo que seja segredo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nietzsche e Simone de Beauvoir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fernandinho Beira-Mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saiba: todo mundo vai morrer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Presidente, general ou rei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anglo-saxão ou muçulmano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Todo e qualquer ser humano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saiba: todo mundo teve pai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quem já foi e quem ainda vai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lao-Tsé, Moisés, Ramsés, Pelé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gandhi, Mike Tyson, Salomé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saiba: todo mundo teve mãe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Índios, africanos e alemães&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nero, Che Guevara, Pinochete&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; também eu e você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&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/20586836-114322888574208155?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114322888574208155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114322888574208155&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114322888574208155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114322888574208155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/03/saibasaiba-todo-mundo-foi-nenmeinstein.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114297253241521212</id><published>2006-03-21T17:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-03-21T17:22:12.433-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/20050724-Natalie%20Portman%20em%20Closer.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/20050724-Natalie%20Portman%20em%20Closer.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E mesmo que ofereças o mar, de nada adiantará se o que te pedem é o oceano...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And I don't wanna scare her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's not hard to fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And I don't wanna lose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's not hard to grow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;When you know that you just don't know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'Til I find somebody new&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hello Stranger.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114297253241521212?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114297253241521212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114297253241521212&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114297253241521212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114297253241521212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/03/e-mesmo-que-ofereas-o-mar-de-nada.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114281270173445313</id><published>2006-03-19T20:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T20:58:21.756-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/hur.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/hur.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TODA A CRUELDADE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tem os que se mostram preocupados com você. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tem os injustos. Tem os nulos. Tem os que fingem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Os que amam. Os que odeiam. Os que suportam. Os que negam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Os que afirmam. Os que cospem. Os que limpam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E você também é assim. Mas não é.&lt;br /&gt;Não é. Porque ser é algo muito particular. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Você é o que os outros não conseguem ver se você não deixar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eles vêem você de uma maneira aleatória. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maneira essa que se constrói diante de uma necessidade pessoal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ninguém é como parece ser e talvez você tenha o azar(ou sorte, quem sabe?) de nunca conhecer alguém. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É uma questão de auto-análise. Se você não é TRANSPARENTE (muitas vezes nem consigo mesmo), porque diabos alguém o seria?!&lt;br /&gt;Acredito que a maioria das pessoas não age desse modo por querer (ou não. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dependendo do ponto de vista, a grande maioria é de mentirosos recalcados e disfarçados) e se eu fosse uma daquelas crianças dos filmes natalinos que tem seu pedido de natal atendido, este seria viver no espaço entre meu "eu genuíno'' e meu "eu articulado". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E que todos tivessem suas memórias afetadas, de forma positiva é claro, pra que pudessem se juntar a mim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marcela MMs&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Agradecimentos à Marcelinha que é uma louca mas uma louca com uma visão interessantíssima, amei esse texto, eu não roubei , ela emprestou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Thanks linda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tem essas fases que são meio doloridas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;quando se tem saudades de alguém que a gente não vai mais ver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Saudades de histórias que nunca começaram e já acabaram. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Vontades de ter vivido mais e melhor. De ter aguado a dor. De ter dito eu te amo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Sei lá... É tanta coisa, tanta coisa meio ruim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Mas tem umas coisas boas, pessoas , e tal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Acho que mortos a gente enterra. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu quero viver afuu, tudo o que for pra viver!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Acho que é só.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114281270173445313?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114281270173445313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114281270173445313&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114281270173445313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114281270173445313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/03/toda-crueldadetem-os-que-se-mostram_19.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114262707480037693</id><published>2006-03-17T16:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T17:24:34.866-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/alone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/alone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou a que no mundo anda perdida,&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou a que na vida não tem norte,&lt;br /&gt;Sou a irmã do Sonho, e desta sorte&lt;br /&gt;Sou a crucificada... a dolorida...&lt;br /&gt;Sombra de névoa ténue e esvaecida,&lt;br /&gt;E que o destino amargo, triste e forte,&lt;br /&gt;Impele brutalmente para a morte!&lt;br /&gt;Alma de luto sempre incompreendida!...&lt;br /&gt;Sou aquela que passa e ninguém vê...&lt;br /&gt;Sou a que chamam triste sem o ser...&lt;br /&gt;Sou a que chora sem saber porquê...&lt;br /&gt;Sou talvez a visão que alguém sonhou.&lt;br /&gt;Alguém que veio ao mundo pra me ver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E que nunca na vida me encontrou!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Florbela Espanca&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Porque as malditas águas de março não vêm fechar o verão de uma vez!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;T.P.M aguda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Vamos???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114262707480037693?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114262707480037693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114262707480037693&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114262707480037693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114262707480037693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/03/eu-eu-sou-que-no-mundo-anda-perdida-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114237227615682051</id><published>2006-03-14T18:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T18:37:56.223-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/DSC04126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/DSC04126.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mutatis mutandis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mesmo que me leve ao abismo eu vou amar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lato sensu...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We are the scientists- the great scape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E no fundo a verdade é discreta vaidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;by Marcela.&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/20586836-114237227615682051?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114237227615682051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114237227615682051&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114237227615682051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114237227615682051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/03/mutatis-mutandis-mesmo-que-me-leve-ao.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114220134087935864</id><published>2006-03-12T18:38:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T19:09:03.383-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/a1000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/a1000.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;"Assim,qualquer pessoa, no momento apropriado,poderá enlouquecer. Não há ninguém que escape desse perigo. É sobre isto esta história: sobre a loucura que iguala os homens. Os homens são desiguais.Sim. Eles são desiguais. As cores os torna diferentes. As raças. As religiões. O Ocidente e o Oriente. As línguas.Os sexos. Só a loucura os iguala. A loucura e o amor. O que dá no mesmo." Fernanda Young&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Umbiguista afu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Não gosta? Azar é o seu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114220134087935864?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114220134087935864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114220134087935864&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114220134087935864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114220134087935864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/03/assimqualquer-pessoa-no-momento.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114194363204587305</id><published>2006-03-09T19:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T21:56:31.746-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/F102310.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/F102310.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As paixões são como as ventanias que incham as velas do navio. Algumas vezes o afundam, mas sem elas não se pode navegar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Voltaire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;-&gt; leia rápido, dá um tom de agonia, e é essa a intenção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;   (pérola guardada, saudade do They dont love you like i love you)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Começando com um gole de vodka pra amenizar a angústia desse abismo infinito. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se você saltar, então talvez encontre o que procura... Esta é a sua tragédia pessoal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Você andou ocupada demais com tantas coisas, e agora elas já não servem de nada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E quando olhava pra frente o que via? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Suas causas estão se perdendo na neblima, e você nesse vão de coisas mal resolvidas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu sei que você acorda à noite achando que vai morrer, asfixiada, aterrorizada com a queda. Você não tem tempo pra amanhã e hoje é tarde. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Você não pode esperar sua própria chegada, e sei que nem percebeu sua partida. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Trinta segundos, acorda querida! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A imagem está se apagando você não vai fazer nada? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Seu corpo se move em camera lenta, levante-se e corra, CORRAAAAA. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Olhe para trás, você consegue se afastar? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Essa calma está errada, se afaste eu estou fora da sua mente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Quem está aí dentro? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sem mais perguntas, ninguém pode viver sem erros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Como se agarrar em algo fora, você nem percebeu o que estava dentro... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se você ousasse aquele suspiro inocente. Não dê explicações. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Qual foi a parte que você perdeu? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Você nunca precisou de heróis, não perca-se com eles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E onde foram os deuses? Seu sorriso impetuoso... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Espere a noite e cante, e grite e lance o sonho do que você precisa e nada mais até a luz da manhã. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Comece a ser logo, agora!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Acima do abismo onde tremem os trovões e colide em você pra que viva a luz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não caia no amor, nem na dúvida, não caia no nada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fuja da pressão e do excesso, isso não faz nenhum sentido. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Você não poderia estar mais errada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E não busque nela a fuga, e não busque nele dois corações. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Renda-se!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E apenas uma vez na vida, deixe-me terminar minha sentença.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bem, se quizer, vá adiante, minta pra mim... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Diga que está tudo sob controle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; E que o que está dentro de você acaba em mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E esse gosto de café?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; E as suas impressões digitais nessa xícara suja, falsificando o sorriso, é assim que você termina?Eu não sou sua resposta final!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; E memórias se desvanecem..." (by vah)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;(tá, que eu não sou normal =P)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&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/20586836-114194363204587305?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114194363204587305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114194363204587305&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114194363204587305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114194363204587305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/03/as-paixes-so-como-as-ventanias-que.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114176846274114774</id><published>2006-03-07T18:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T18:54:22.753-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/sabonete.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/sabonete.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Atire a primeira pedra então!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quem é ela,? Quem é ela?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quem faz sentido é soldado.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Meu amor, cadê você? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu acordei não tem ninguém ao lado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114176846274114774?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114176846274114774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114176846274114774&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114176846274114774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114176846274114774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/03/atire-primeira-pedra-ento-quem-ela.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114167162186068684</id><published>2006-03-06T15:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T16:00:24.216-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/F102357.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/F102357.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;If there's anything to say&lt;br /&gt;If there's anything to do&lt;br /&gt;If there's any other way&lt;br /&gt;I'd do anything for you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[Sufjan Stevens]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu faço tudo errado.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What’s the worst that I can say?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Things are better if I stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So long and goodnight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Guilhotina!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114167162186068684?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114167162186068684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114167162186068684&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114167162186068684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114167162186068684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/03/if-theres-anything-to-say-if-theres.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114133179009494631</id><published>2006-03-02T17:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T17:36:30.130-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/FFPOFP28.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/FFPOFP28.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;What if God was one of us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quantas Vanessas dentro da Vanessa? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu lí umas 10x eu acho, a historinha que eu to criando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Às x não parece que sou eu que escrevo essas coisas. Mas sim. Por incrível que pareça eu sou sensível. Mais do que eu gostaria até. Eu exagero as coisas, sofro horrores e de lua em lua me retiro do mundo pra viver minha solidão. Descobri que o meu amor é uma coisa ampla. Não, não consigo me doar pra alguém, tenho problema com isso. Não gosto de gente carente ou ciumenta. Engraçado porque descobri o quanto ciumenta eu sou. Sou melancólica também, muito melancólica e nostálgica, mas só as vezes. Quando eu to vivendo uma coisa, esqueço as outras, mas sempre espero que quando eu volte a me lembrar delas, elas estejam lá, me esperando como se eu nunca tivesse às deixado de lado. É... Sou assim com as pessoas. Às vezes viajo que as pessoas não gostam mais de mim, e então piro, e corro atrás aguniada. Aí descubro que amores não acabam em dois dias, ou uma semana. Aliás, tento sempre me convencer disso, pq repito meus erros com freqüencia. To sempre tentando levar em consideração sentimentos alheios, mas geralmente penso primeiro nos meus. Alguém me diz se eu to errada, mas eu tenho como prioridade ser fiél comigo mesma.Amo minha mãe mais que tudo no mundo. E mais três ou quatro pessoas têm algum poder sobre mim. Fora isso, quero que as pessoas me façam dar boas risadas, mas não espero nada além disso.Me apaixono com frequência tb, mas minhas paixões costumam durar alguns meses. Eu sou volúvel, fútil às vezes.Mas é... Meu amor realmente é extenso, eu amo flores, pássaros, lua, sol, com muita intensidade. E me abalo muito com os problemas dos outros e do mundo. Pelo menos 50% da minha vida passei angustiada com alguma coisa. Sinto saudade de coisas que não conhecí... Queria ter vivido em outra época, acho que eu viví. Se existe reencarnação, então eu seria quase um Merlim. É, eu sou narcisa às x. Mas nem sempre sou o que aparento.Amo gente parecida comigo, mas tenho dificuldade em me relacionar com elas.Morro de medo da rejeição, morro de medo de não realizar as coisas que eu desejo, morro de medo de perder as pessoas que eu amo. Adoro chamar a atenção dos outros. Adoro que me toquem, mas não costumo retribuir carinho. Tenho dificuldade em expressar sentimentos. Não choro quase nunca, não demonstro fraqueza. Mas me sinto desmoronando às x. Odeio traição, odeio mentira, odeio gente que precisa de aprovação em tudo, gente que segue as regras 100% do tempo e sufoca as vontades. Odeio gente que não vive! Queria viver mais as coisas, principalmente o amor. Queria viver mais minhas emoções. Sou radical, não gosto de nada pela metade,"pra mim é tudo ou nunca mais".Quero casar, quero ter filhos. Mas não quero virar esposa ou mãe, quero continuar sendo a Vanessa. Não quero viver pra ninguém, quero viver com alguém...Queria pedir pra que as pessoas me amassem e prometer que não vou decepcioná-las , mas não posso prometer, não acredito em promessas e nem em "pra sempre". Ainda acredito no ser humano, mas tenho me decepcionado bastante. Talvez por isso eu ame tanto o antigo, o passado. Eu idealizo demais as coisas, costumo ser exigente demais. Tenho que mudar isso.Adoro música, não vivo sem música. Adoro dramas, adoro cinema e livros, gosto de descobrir e aprender coisas. Gosto de conhecer pessoas e lugares. Meu sonho é viajar pelo mundo. Queria conhecer alguém disposto a cometer algumas loucuras comigo! Talvez esse seja um dos meus maiores desejos. Queria ter mais momentos felizes. &lt;/span&gt;&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;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Precisava lembrar disso, e lembrar os outros também.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114133179009494631?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114133179009494631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114133179009494631&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114133179009494631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114133179009494631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/03/what-if-god-was-one-of-us-quantas.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114114949233161228</id><published>2006-02-28T14:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T14:58:12.353-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/DSC03954.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/DSC03954.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Algumas tardes fantásticas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Todo dia um ninguém josé acorda já deitado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Todo dia ainda de pé o zé dorme acordado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Todo dia o dia não quer raiar o sol do dia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Toda trilha é andada com a fé de quem crê no ditado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas o dia insiste em nascer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas o dia insiste em nascer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pra ver deitar o novo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Toda rosa é rosa por que assim ela é chamada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Toda Bossa é nova e você não liga se é usada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Todo o carnaval tem seu fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Todo o carnaval tem seu fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É o fim, é o fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Deixa eu brincar de ser feliz,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Deixa eu pintar o meu nariz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Toda banda tem um tarol, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;quem sabe eu não toco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Todo samba tem um refrão pra levantar o bloco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Toda escolha é feita por quem acorda já deitado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Toda folha elege um alguém que mora logo ao lado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E pinta o estandarte de azul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E põe suas estrelas no azul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pra que mudar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Deixa eu brincar de ser feliz,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Deixa eu pintar o meu nariz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;;) Valentina &amp; Téo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo cores.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114114949233161228?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114114949233161228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114114949233161228&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114114949233161228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114114949233161228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/algumas-tardes-fantsticas.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114090986015727057</id><published>2006-02-25T20:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T20:24:20.176-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/DSC03973.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/DSC03973.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; "E assim escondo-me atrás da porta, para que a realidade, quando entra, me não veja. Escondo-me debaixo da mesa, donde subitamente, prego sustos à possibilidade. De modo que me desligo de mim como dos dois braços de um complexo, os dois grandes tédios que me apertam - o tédio de poder viver só o Real e o tédio de poder conceber só o Possível."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*Sábado de Carnaval.&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/20586836-114090986015727057?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114090986015727057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114090986015727057&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114090986015727057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114090986015727057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/e-assim-escondo-me-atrs-da-porta-para.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114063511507562034</id><published>2006-02-22T15:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T17:18:04.390-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/sem%20t??tulo.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/sem%20t%3F%3Ftulo.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;" Ou a gente faz poeira, ou come poeira." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(sábio prof de Penal)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Pré - carnaval e aula. Que ótimo, porque combina. =/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Ironia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Alguém afim de uma cerveja?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Rotina feliz ainda. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Vem pra minha ala que hoje a nossa escola&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;ai desfilar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Vem fazer história que hoje é dia de glória&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Neste lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Vem comemorar, escandalizar ninguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Vem me namorar vou te namorar também&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Vamos pra avenida, desfilar a vida, carnavaliza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Na Portela tem, Mocidade, Imperatriz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;No Império tem, uma Vila tão feliz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Beija Flor, vem ver, a porta-bandeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Na Mangueira tem morena da Tradição&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Sinto a batucada se aproximar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Estou ensaiado para te tocar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Repique tocou, o surdo escutou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E o meu coração (tamborim)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Cuíca gemeu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Será que era eu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Quando ela passou por mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114063511507562034?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114063511507562034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114063511507562034&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114063511507562034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114063511507562034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/ou-gente-faz-poeira-ou-come-poeira.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114046181679480224</id><published>2006-02-20T15:43:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T15:56:57.363-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/coadf_picture3news.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/coadf_picture3news.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Je suis désolée &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lo siento &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ik ben droevig &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sono spiacente &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Perdóname &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've heard it all before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't wanna hear, I don't wanna know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*To boba.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;E... Hoje começa a correria.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Boa sorte pra mim!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Você não está entendendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Quase nada do que eu digo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu quero ir-me embora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu quero é dar o fora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;E quero que você venha comigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu quero botar fogo nesse apartamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;você não acredita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Nunca uma rotina foi tão feliz!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-114046181679480224?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114046181679480224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114046181679480224&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114046181679480224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114046181679480224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/je-suis-dsole-lo-siento-ik-ben-droevig.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-114011794927953707</id><published>2006-02-16T16:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T16:25:49.346-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/BC026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/BC026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; "Uma das coisas mais difíceis, para o ser humano, é ele se dar conta de que não é mais amado. Um tipo estranho de amor próprio o estimula a crer que aquilo não passa de um mal entendido. 'Ela vai cair na real e ver que esse ódio vai passar. Porque ela ainda me ama. Ela não pode viver sem mim'. Quando o tempo vai passando, ele começa a perceber que sim, ela pode viver sem ele. Ela quer viver sem ele. Ela não o ama mais. Todo mundo já passou por decepções amorosas. E de nada adianta saber disso, enquanto se está sofrendo. A dor sentida parece ser a única no universo. E a dor vai se transformando em ódio, e em vontade de vingança, mas a qualquer deslize, poderá voltar a ser simplesmente amor. Novamente amor, nada mais que amor. Amor."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Fernanda Young (roubado)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jackie is just speeding away&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thought she was James Dean for a day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then I guess she had to crash&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Valium would have helped that bash&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Said, Hey babe,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Take a walk on the wild side&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I said, Hey honey,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Take a walk on the wild side&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And the colored girls say, doo do doo do doo do do doo ....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Em pretito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;(roubado)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;*Não gostei da foto, e o amor não é um tango no meio da rua.&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/20586836-114011794927953707?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/114011794927953707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=114011794927953707&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114011794927953707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/114011794927953707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/uma-das-coisas-mais-difceis-para-o-ser.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113995101174486427</id><published>2006-02-14T17:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T18:03:31.823-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/AF401.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/AF401.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mente oscilante, intrigante, inquietante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nunca sei o que quero, como quero, quem eu quero.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As vezes me oculto, camuflo, disperso. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quase sempre me oponho, avanço, persisto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tenho por tendência me promover, pretender, almejar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E o que faço melhor?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Pensar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Crio o mundo, crio pessoas, crio palavras, cenários, conversas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Imagino...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E depois reconheço, não gosto, desperto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Viajo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cresço, me exponho, me apaixono.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sonho...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E temo acordar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quero tudo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mais ainda: quero liberdade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quero atenção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E se posso?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ainda quero mais: SER FELIZ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(meu primeiro profile, saudade)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Ai ai, eu to bem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sim, sim. Em pretito.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Ou se preferirem, negrito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-113995101174486427?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113995101174486427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113995101174486427&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113995101174486427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113995101174486427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/mente-oscilante-intrigante-inquietante.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113967531967010794</id><published>2006-02-11T13:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T13:28:40.373-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/blacknwhite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/blacknwhite.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu amo que tu me ligue 3 x por dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo que tu me conte todas as tuas aventuras amorosas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo quando tu faz uma comidinha tri gosmenta e a gente come tri feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo nós na tua casa, antes de dormir, conversando as coisas mais sem noção e engraçadas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Detalhe: tu de cueca, eu com aquela cara de "chapada de sono" (q tu sabe =P)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo quando eu te convido pra ir ao inferno comigo e tu aceita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo como a gente fica conversando bizarrices sexuais no escuro, um em cada quarto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo o jeito que tu fala "sei lá"!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo a cara que tu faz quando fica chateado, emburrado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo o fato de que todas as coisas me fazem lembrar de ti. Assim como qualquer coisa faz tu lembrar de mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo quando tu acorda, e segundos depois me manda a mensagem mais engraçada do mundo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo quando eu tô quase dormindo e chega uma mensagem tua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo todos os teus "ois" e todos os teus "tchaus".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo o jeito que tu ama as outras pessoas. Mas mais ainda o jeito que tu me ama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu amo a maneira que tu encara a vida, teu otimismo (por incrível que pareça =P), e o fato de tu ver beleza em tudo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Te amo acima do bem, mas não acima do &lt;strong&gt;MAU &lt;/strong&gt;te amo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas não amo quando tu acha que já não pode mais me contar tudo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e que eu não movo uma palha por ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nem amo quando tu começa a achar que eu não te amo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Eu sei que posso viver sem ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Mas eu &lt;strong&gt;não quero&lt;/strong&gt; viver sem ti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*Ela se importa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-113967531967010794?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113967531967010794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113967531967010794&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113967531967010794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113967531967010794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/eu-amo-que-tu-me-ligue-3-x-por-dia.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113951507794708087</id><published>2006-02-09T16:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T19:27:22.770-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/y8001_450.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/y8001_450.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"mergulho na quase dor de uma intensa alegria"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;* Se não é &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;à minha maneira, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;não é de jeito nenhum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Senhas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não gosto do bom gosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não gosto de bom senso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não gosto de bons modos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não gosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu aguento até rigores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não tenho pena dos traídos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu hospedo infratores e banidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu respeito conveniências&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não ligo pra conchavos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu suporto aparências&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não gosto de maus tratos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu aguento até os modernos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E seus segundos cadernos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu aguento até os caretas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E suas verdades perfeitas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu aguento até os estetas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não julgo a competência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não ligo para etiqueta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu aplaudo rebeldias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu respeito tiranias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu compreendo piedades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não condeno mentiras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu não condeno vaidades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu gosto dos que têm fome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dos que morrem de vontade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dos que secam de desejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dos que ardem…&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/20586836-113951507794708087?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113951507794708087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113951507794708087&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113951507794708087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113951507794708087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/mergulho-na-quase-dor-de-uma-intensa.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113934820732607017</id><published>2006-02-07T17:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T18:36:47.633-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/pierrot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/pierrot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Sem horas e sem dores &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Respeitável público pagão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; a partir de sempre &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;toda cura pertence a nós &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;toda resposta e dúvida &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;todo sujeito é livre &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;para conjugar o verbo que quiser &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;todo verbo é livre &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;para ser direto ou indireto &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;nenhum predicado será prejudicado &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;nem tampouco a vírgula, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;nem a crase &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;nem a frase &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;e ponto final! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;afinal, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;a má gramática da vida &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;nos põe entre pausas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;entre vírgulas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;e estar entre vírgulas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;é aposto &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;e eu aposto o oposto &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;que vou cativar a todos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;sendo apenas um sujeito simples &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;um sujeito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; e sua oração &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;sua pressa e sua prece &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;que a regência da paz sirva a todos nós...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; cegos ou não que enxerguemos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;o fato de termos acessórios para nossa oração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; separados ou adjuntos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;nominais ou não &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;façamos parte do contexto da crônica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; e de todas as capas de edição especial &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;sejamos também o anúncio da contra-capa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;mas ser a capa e ser contra-capa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;é a beleza da contradição &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;é negar a si mesmo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;e negar a si mesmo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; é muitas vezes, encontrar-se com Deus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; com o teu Deus &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Sem horas e sem dores &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Que nesse encontro que acontece agora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; cada um possa se encontrar no outro até porque... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;tem horas que a gente se pergunta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; por que é que não se junta tudo numa coisa só? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não é meu. Aliás quem dera fosse (roubei da Flá).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;  O lucro do que se ficou devendo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;  Minha agonia é tu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;  Meta: quebrar a banca no beco/ talvez não.¬¬&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;  Mau queri, que foi me ver.[amo]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;============================================================&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;bah amo essa música&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;to mt extasiada, apaixonada, atormentada&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;por interpol&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;mt&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;mt&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;mt&lt;br /&gt;homens são diretores de arte, mulheres são roteiristas says:&lt;br /&gt;ouvi algumas coisas de interpol e não curti&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;bah, tenho agonias qd escuto&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;mt bom pra mim&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;sabe qual é&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;eu so muito viceral&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;(descobri essa palavra hj)&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;queria usar&lt;br /&gt;v. says:&lt;br /&gt;não tinha tido oportunidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;* Interpol- Say hello to the angels / Fran [adoro] / porque a gente não para de falar ponto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Então reflexão filosófica do dia: Amar é ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se é que conheço você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Só de te observar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Posso apostar que não vai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Me decepcionar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mais que anormal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu devo ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pra ver você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Em todo lugar&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/20586836-113934820732607017?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113934820732607017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113934820732607017&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113934820732607017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113934820732607017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/sem-horas-e-sem-dores-respeitvel.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113925007723093215</id><published>2006-02-06T15:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T15:21:17.313-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/21.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Me dá um beijo Victória.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Não Pedro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Por favor... Eu quero muito te beijar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Acho melhor não Pedro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Qual é o problema Vicky?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Sei lá... Tenho medo de me apaixonar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Só um beijinho vai?! Não tira pedaço...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ É tanta vontade assim?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ É... Muita...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Então tá. Beija!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Ai não Pedro. Não vai dá, eu não consigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Ah, quer saber? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Vai toma no cú guria, enchi o saco. Tu é muito fazida, porraaa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Pedrooo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ O que é isso?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ É isso mesmo. Fui!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Pedrô. Pedrooooooo!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ Volta aquí! Por favoooorrrr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;_ E o meu beijo??????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;* Vitória ainda é apaixonada por Pedro.  Eles nunca se beijaram.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;# "Se pá" acabei me apaixonando por aquela idéia...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-113925007723093215?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113925007723093215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113925007723093215&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113925007723093215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113925007723093215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/me-d-um-beijo-victria.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113890216262543569</id><published>2006-02-02T13:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T14:42:43.420-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/balao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/balao.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Larga da minha mão, que hoje eu quero é voar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Se eu fosse um balão estourava no ar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;========================&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;(Turn and face the stranger)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Ch-ch-Changes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Time may change me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But I can't trace time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;David Bowie &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;*_ Posso te dar um beijo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt; _ Que?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt; _ Só quero saber se tu tem vontade de me beijar denovo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-113890216262543569?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113890216262543569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113890216262543569&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113890216262543569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113890216262543569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/larga-da-minha-mo-que-hoje-eu-quero.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113883987151964801</id><published>2006-02-01T21:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T21:24:31.536-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/vaness.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/vaness.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Esboço / Ego&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Gone, she´s gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;How do you feel about it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;That´s what I thought&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;You´re real torn up about it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;And I wish you the best&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;But I could do without it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;And I will, because you´ve worn me down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;But you can´t stop thinking about her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Fumo o meu cigarro com desdém, a vida pode ser bem diferente se a gente mudar o foco...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;* Em greve!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;* Maurício não faz mais eu me sentir mal tá amorzinho?/fiquei triste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;* Santo antônio: Eu quero o moreno do pingüins! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&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/20586836-113883987151964801?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113883987151964801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113883987151964801&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113883987151964801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113883987151964801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/02/esboo-ego-gone-shes-gonehow-do-you.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113864455802608278</id><published>2006-01-30T14:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T15:09:18.100-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/afriends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/afriends.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Naquela tarde.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Toca o telefone, é Lúcia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_Oi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_Oi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_Tenho uma coisa pra te contar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_Aé? Humm... conta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_Ele vai casar!!!&lt;br /&gt;_Ele? Ele quem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_O Roberto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Eu odiava as brincadeiras de mau gosto de Lúcia, aquela vagabunda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_Ai sua idiota, fala sério. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_É sério, ele vai casar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_com quem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;-Que pergunta idiota Cristina. Claro que com o Fernando, com quem mais seria?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Fiquei em silêncio, não conseguia acreditar no que estava escutando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Senti um aperto no coração, a respiração parecia ficar ofegante meus olhos começaram a nublar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_Mas como? Ele vai me abandonar? Vai me deixar sozinha?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_Meu Deus Cristina, você sempre soube que ele era gay. E depois, eles namoram a três anos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Desliguei o telefone na cara dela. Não conseguia me acalmar. De repente veio o choro incontrolável. A dor era tamanha que pensei que fosse morrer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tinha dedicado tantos anos àquele homem. O mais bonito, o mais elegante. Adorava  tudo nele: seu jeito de falar, de andar, sua risada. Sentia-se segura em dividir seus segredos mais íntimos.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Ele parecia entendê-la como ninguém. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Na verdade eram muito parecidos... Os problemas em se relacionar com as outras pessoas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Pra eles o fato de ela ser hétero e ele gay era um algo a mais, a ânsia de entender os homens. Obviamente o que os divertia e os agoniava era o fato de não entenderem a sí próprios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Ela ganhava muitos homens, e ele? Bom... Ele ganhava o dobro que ela haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cristina se acalmara agora. Foi até a geladeira pegou uma polar. Tomou aquela cerveja pensando em Roberto, em todos os momentos que haviam passado juntos. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O fato de Roberto ter começado a namorar Fernando há três anos atrás não havia lhe preocupado. Conhecia Roberto o suficiente pra saber que um belo dia ele iria acordar enjoado, acabaria com Fernando e voltaria a ser o que sempre foi, o melhor amigo de Cristina!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas o namoro durou, e agora? Ele não vai mais morar com ela. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Com o copo na mão Cristina deu um longo suspiro e disse em voz alta:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_ Meu Deus, quanto drama. Tá na hora de arrumar um namorado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;*Aliás, eu também.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-113864455802608278?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113864455802608278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113864455802608278&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113864455802608278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113864455802608278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/01/naquela-tarde.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113838931594904029</id><published>2006-01-27T15:33:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T16:15:16.023-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/audrey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/audrey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Todos os homens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Matam a coisa amada;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Com o galanteio alguns o fazem, enquanto outros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Com a face amargurada;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Os covardes o fazem com um beijo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Os bravos, com a espada!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Um assassina o seu amor na juventude,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Outro, quando ancião;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Com as mãos da Luxúria este estrangula, aquele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Empresta do Ouro a mão;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Os mais gentis usam a faca, porque frios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Os mortos logo estão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Este ama pouco tempo, aquele ama demais;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Há comprar, e há vender;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Uns fazem o ato em pranto, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;enquanto que um suspiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;outros não dão sequer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Todo homem mata a coisa amada!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;- Nem por isso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Todo homem vai morrer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wilde&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;====================================================================&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;* Uma semana de trabalho:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Ela acorda todos os dias no mesmo horário.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Ônibus às 7:00, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;7:30 no centro,acende um cigarro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Capuccino no mercado e outro cigarro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Bom dia ao porteiro,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;pega os processos no armário.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;12:00 intervalo, acende um cigarro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Devolta ao trabalho até as 2:00,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;e então ela está livre. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Que bom,acende outro cigarro!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Chega em casa e sua mãe preocupa-se:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_Mas tu já tomou tanto remédio e continua com essa tosse? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Que horror!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;_Ai também né mãe, aquele ar-condicionado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;* I wanna be Audrey Hepburn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-113838931594904029?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113838931594904029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113838931594904029&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113838931594904029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113838931594904029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/01/todos-os-homensmatam-coisa-amadacom-o.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113822369135211728</id><published>2006-01-25T17:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T18:14:51.396-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/hurts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/400/hurts.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;===============================&lt;strong&gt;Hurts&lt;/strong&gt;==============================&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All These Things That I've Done&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;  Sabe que hoje pensado na vida... Então... Ouvindo Evil... Haha! Várias coisas...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;    Tu é meu tumati. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;22/01: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;_ Ai pensei numa coisa muito cruél agora. Me desculpa nem vou dizer, não foi de coração, foi meu dark side.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;_ Outro?  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;/ risos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;===================================================================&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Odeio quando eu ligo e as pessoas não estão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Se fosse mais mimada, teriam que matá-la! haha &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;To muito Vandinha hoje. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Mas heim...Mudando de assunto,tá legal o tal do estágio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Idiotheque:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;que této esse som&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;(te juro Mau, me ví num vídeo, matando 4 ou 5 pessoas, depois acendo um cigarro e olho pro nada com um sorrisinho bobo no rosto).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;*Ciúme a morte não morreu por acaso!&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/20586836-113822369135211728?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113822369135211728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113822369135211728&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113822369135211728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113822369135211728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113778560496270098</id><published>2006-01-20T16:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T16:33:25.080-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/amelie-poulain07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/amelie-poulain07.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;"Cada um com seu brinquedo, todo mundo se diverte."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Diz que deu, diz que dá, diz que Deus dará&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Jesus Cristo inda me paga, um dia inda me explica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Como é que pôs no mundo esta pobre coisica &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Vou correr o mundo afora, dar uma canjica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Que é pra ver se alguém se embala ao ronco da cuíca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;E aquele abraço pra quem fica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Se é que já não entende...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&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/20586836-113778560496270098?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113778560496270098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113778560496270098&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113778560496270098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113778560496270098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/01/cada-um-com-seu-brinquedo-todo-mundo.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113752167005438615</id><published>2006-01-17T14:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T15:14:30.086-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/cigarro%20janela.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/cigarro%20janela.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu ando pelo mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Prestando atenção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Em cores que eu não sei o nome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Cores de Almodovar, cores de Frida Kahlo, cores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Passeio pelo escuro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu presto muita atenção no que meu irmão ouve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;E como uma segunda pele, um calo, uma casca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Uma cápsula protetora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu quero chegar antes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Pra sinalizar o estar de cada coisa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Filtrar seus graus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu ando pelo mundo divertindo gente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Chorando ao telefone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;E vendo doer a fome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Dos meninos que têm fome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Pela janela do quarto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Pela janela do carro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Pela tela, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Pela janela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Quem é ela, quem é ela?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu vejo tudo enquadrado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Remoto controle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu ando pelo mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;E os automóveis correm para quê?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;E as crianças, pra onde correm?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Trânsito entre dois lados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;De um lado, eu gosto de opostos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Exponho o meu modo, me mostro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu canto para quem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu ando pelo mundo e meus amigos, cadê?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Minha alegria, meu cansaço?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Meu amor, cadê você?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu acordei, não tem ninguém ao lado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;*Eu vou fumar o meu cigarro &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;e lembrar de alguma história.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Talvez eu faça isso na chuva.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Vocês podem ligar, eu não vou atender.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Talvez... eu brinque com o desejo de vocês como quem brinca de roleta russa. E porque eu deveria respeitar os caprichos dos outros? Alguém respeita os meus? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;A decadência é um charme! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Se eu por acaso der meu talefone, não ligue. Obrigada.&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/20586836-113752167005438615?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113752167005438615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113752167005438615&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113752167005438615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113752167005438615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/01/eu-ando-pelo-mundoprestando-atenoem.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113725837319971568</id><published>2006-01-14T14:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-01-14T14:06:13.210-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/andar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/andar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Na esperança de encontrar aquilo que se procura. O que é, não se sabe!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Canta pra subir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-113725837319971568?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113725837319971568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113725837319971568&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113725837319971568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113725837319971568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/01/na-esperana-de-encontrar-aquilo-que-se.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113701790290373042</id><published>2006-01-11T18:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T19:22:13.606-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/26745725.coresesolidoempretoebranco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/26745725.coresesolidoempretoebranco.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A vida em preto e branco.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;_______________________&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Lucidez Perigosa&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Estou sentindo uma clareza tão grande&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;que me anula como pessoa atual e comum:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;é uma lucidez vazia, como explicar? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;assim como um cálculo matemático perfeito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;do qual, no entanto, não se precise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Estou por assim dizer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;vendo claramente o vazio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;E nem entendo aquilo que entendo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;pois estou infinitamente maior que eu mesma,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;e não me alcanço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Além de que:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;que faço dessa lucidez?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Sei também que esta minha lucidez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;pode-se tornar o inferno humano- já me aconteceu antes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Pois sei que- em termos de nossa diária e permanente acomodação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;resignada à irrealidade &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;-essa clareza de realidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;é um risco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Apagai, pois, minha flama, Deus,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;porque ela não me serve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;para viver os dias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Ajudai-me a de novo consistir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;dos modos possíveis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu consisto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;eu consisto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;amém.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Clarice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Nem mais, nem menos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-113701790290373042?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113701790290373042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113701790290373042&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113701790290373042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113701790290373042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/01/vida-em-preto-e-branco.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20586836.post-113657535378162719</id><published>2006-01-06T15:48:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T16:22:33.810-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/1600/ahueh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6470/510/320/ahueh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Círculo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Nasce um bebê/água no joelho/frieira no pé/ um dia um terçol/outro nem sol tem/ arranhado de gato/ desidratação/ queimado no fogo/ caindo no chão/ faltando ao recato/ apanhando do irmão/ dever escolar/ mamãe se queixando/ papai se mandando/todos a mandar/ depois vem colite/ e medo do amor/ caspa e sinusite/ extração (ai!) sem dor/ horror do ridículo/ gesto "pornográfego"/ o primeiro veículo/ e multa de tráfego/ logo o casamento/ a neurastenia/ vocação frustrada/ a taquicardia/ e logo o momento/ em que nasce outro bebê/ com água no joelho e frieira no pé...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;A cada novo ano milhões de idéias para ser, e não sendo, tentando á todo custo conseguir com que seja.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Um ano pra curar uma dor, pra conquistar um amor. Pra novas agonias, pra noites vazias... Pra abandonar o passado! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Um ano pra que se renove os desejos e renove as paixões. Pra novos amigos, novas emoções.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;No mais, o que muda é o calendário. Um novo tempo? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;O mesmo tic-tac do relógio, como a contagem regressiva de uma bomba, tic- tac, a vida é por um fio, tic-tac, tic-tac . BUM!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;(Excesso de estima por mim mesma)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20586836-113657535378162719?l=lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/feeds/113657535378162719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20586836&amp;postID=113657535378162719&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113657535378162719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20586836/posts/default/113657535378162719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lettrespourdieu.blogspot.com/2006/01/crculonasce-um-bebgua-no-joelhofrieira.html' title=''/><author><name>vah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12539902469648812131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TkTXA6Kl3b4/StzvRanmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAF0/XHgbO8rHxw8/S220/DSC05317.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
