<?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-6289510357646665971</id><updated>2012-02-04T18:35:14.276-03:00</updated><category term='Renata Fagundes'/><category term='Késia Maximiano'/><category term='Janete Andrade'/><category term='Ana Jácomo'/><category term='Erikah Azzevedo'/><category term='Geraldo de Barros'/><category term='Tony'/><category term='Serena - Cris'/><category term='Maria Rita'/><category term='Aurélia Vasconcelos'/><category term='Brena Braz'/><category term='Gabriela'/><category term='Maya'/><category term='Fernanda Mello'/><category term='Roberta Blá'/><category term='Fabrício Carpinejar'/><category term='Aline Romero'/><category term='Vanessa Leonardi'/><category term='Sabrina Davanzo'/><category term='O Teatro Mágico'/><category term='Camila Lordelo'/><category term='Renata Carneiro'/><category term='Legião Urbana'/><category term='Tati Bernardi'/><category term='Aline Gianasi'/><category term='Duda Araújo'/><category term='Oswaldo Montenegro'/><category term='Eugenio de Andrade'/><category term='Carolina Salcides'/><category term='Lua'/><category term='Erica Maria'/><category term='Briza'/><category term='Eduardo Baszczyn'/><category term='Jaya Magalhães'/><category term='Karla Thayse'/><category term='Caio Fernando'/><category term='Maryama'/><category term='Guimarães Rosa'/><category term='Ni...'/><category term='Cazuza'/><category term='Be Lins'/><category term='Natália'/><category term='Anaïs Nin'/><category term='The Notebook'/><category term='Amanda Arrais'/><category term='Yasha'/><category term='Priscila Rôde'/><category term='Diana Valentina'/><category term='Pablo Neruda'/><category term='(Cris...)'/><category term='Fernanda Young'/><category term='Edson Marques'/><category term='Mário Quintana'/><category term='Verônica Heiss'/><category term='Denise Portes'/><category term='Nando Reis'/><category term='Bukowski'/><category term='Babi Soler'/><category term='Clarice Lispector'/><category term='Marisa Vieira'/><category term='Vander Lee'/><category term='Marina Nobre'/><category term='Edson'/><category term='Maria Fernanda'/><category term='Drummond de Andrade'/><category term='Gabriele Fidalgo'/><category term='Cris Guerra'/><category term='Rita'/><category term='Camila Meneghetti'/><title type='text'>Outros Rastros</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>102</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-4424701117078608900</id><published>2011-09-29T20:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T20:43:35.778-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bukowski'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-02NVDA0td6Q/ToUQP5cxdsI/AAAAAAAACTY/RKR8KPIFZW0/s1600/Closer___by_Khomenko_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 392px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657946372166481602" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-02NVDA0td6Q/ToUQP5cxdsI/AAAAAAAACTY/RKR8KPIFZW0/s400/Closer___by_Khomenko_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Quando a verdade de outra pessoa fecha com a sua, e parece que aquilo foi escrito só pra você, é maravilhoso."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bukowski&lt;/em&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/6289510357646665971-4424701117078608900?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/4424701117078608900/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=4424701117078608900' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4424701117078608900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4424701117078608900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/09/quando-verdade-de-outra-pessoa-fecha.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-02NVDA0td6Q/ToUQP5cxdsI/AAAAAAAACTY/RKR8KPIFZW0/s72-c/Closer___by_Khomenko_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-799036082281032173</id><published>2011-07-02T11:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-02T11:48:52.876-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Caio Fernando'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E9ywlMcmpHk/Tg89pXO2RgI/AAAAAAAACS4/17l4x6wkEHU/s1600/gostoso.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 363px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624782240429262338" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E9ywlMcmpHk/Tg89pXO2RgI/AAAAAAAACS4/17l4x6wkEHU/s400/gostoso.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Quero você. Quero eu. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Quero cama desarrumada, lençol, café e travesseiro. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Quero seu beijo. Quero seu cheiro."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Caio Fernando &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-799036082281032173?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/799036082281032173/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=799036082281032173' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/799036082281032173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/799036082281032173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/07/quero-voce.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E9ywlMcmpHk/Tg89pXO2RgI/AAAAAAAACS4/17l4x6wkEHU/s72-c/gostoso.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-594482106252206201</id><published>2011-07-02T11:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-02T11:46:30.319-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tati Bernardi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BzKaiyTNbX8/Tg89GM5LyHI/AAAAAAAACSw/Ikin9wSrypw/s1600/tumblr_lb4h5iNyzh1qcws20o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624781636358621298" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BzKaiyTNbX8/Tg89GM5LyHI/AAAAAAAACSw/Ikin9wSrypw/s400/tumblr_lb4h5iNyzh1qcws20o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;"No fundo, mesmo lendo tanto, pensando tanto e filosofando tanto, a gente gosta mesmo é de quem é simples e feliz. A gente não se apaixona por quem vive reclamando e amassando jornais contra a parede. A gente se apaixona por esses tipinhos banais que vivem rindo. E a gente se pergunta: que é que ele tem que brilha tanto? Que é que ele tem que quando chega ofusca todo o resto?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tati Bernardi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-594482106252206201?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/594482106252206201/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=594482106252206201' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/594482106252206201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/594482106252206201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/07/no-fundo-mesmo-lendo-tanto-pensando.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BzKaiyTNbX8/Tg89GM5LyHI/AAAAAAAACSw/Ikin9wSrypw/s72-c/tumblr_lb4h5iNyzh1qcws20o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2653751434212855505</id><published>2011-07-02T11:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-02T11:42:08.335-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Camila Lordelo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qvCbOOd3zEI/Tg88DqZhBTI/AAAAAAAACSo/sQi-Vk-2H80/s1600/tumblr_lc9b19apln1qa4bk9o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624780493227623730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qvCbOOd3zEI/Tg88DqZhBTI/AAAAAAAACSo/sQi-Vk-2H80/s400/tumblr_lc9b19apln1qa4bk9o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"o amor às vezes acorda no meio da noite&lt;br /&gt;e sela com um beijo&lt;br /&gt;a certeza de que estou dormindo bem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Camila Lordelo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sintosintosinto.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.sintosintosinto.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2653751434212855505?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2653751434212855505/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2653751434212855505' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2653751434212855505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2653751434212855505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/07/o-amor-as-vezes-acorda-no-meio-da-noite.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qvCbOOd3zEI/Tg88DqZhBTI/AAAAAAAACSo/sQi-Vk-2H80/s72-c/tumblr_lc9b19apln1qa4bk9o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-5067844222883981166</id><published>2011-03-25T10:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T10:04:18.845-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ana Jácomo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c9Xh0S2Mokg/TYygKXFJxrI/AAAAAAAACQ0/kYeLBTayBLk/s1600/tumblr_l70sv8kpIl1qzxhgyo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 282px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588017337514706610" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c9Xh0S2Mokg/TYygKXFJxrI/AAAAAAAACQ0/kYeLBTayBLk/s400/tumblr_l70sv8kpIl1qzxhgyo1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tinha um jeito singular de fechar os olhos quando experimentava emoção bonita, coisa de segundos e coisa imensa. Era como se os olhos quisessem segurar a lindeza do instante um bocadinho, o suficiente para levá-lo até o lugar onde o seu sabor nunca mais poderia ser perdido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu via, olhos do coração abertos, e nunca mais perdi de vista o sabor desse detalhe. Porque quem ama vê miudezas com olhar suficiente pra nunca mais se perderem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ana Jácomo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://anajacomo.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://anajacomo.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&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/6289510357646665971-5067844222883981166?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/5067844222883981166/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=5067844222883981166' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5067844222883981166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5067844222883981166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/03/tinha-um-jeito-singular-de-fechar-os.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c9Xh0S2Mokg/TYygKXFJxrI/AAAAAAAACQ0/kYeLBTayBLk/s72-c/tumblr_l70sv8kpIl1qzxhgyo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6157197905766295034</id><published>2011-03-21T22:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T22:32:24.293-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vanessa Leonardi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CYwk9xyuN-Y/TYgJjpUS6zI/AAAAAAAACQs/Hva99o0D4vw/s1600/tumblr_koq9925OsZ1qzhfg5o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586725845744151346" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CYwk9xyuN-Y/TYgJjpUS6zI/AAAAAAAACQs/Hva99o0D4vw/s400/tumblr_koq9925OsZ1qzhfg5o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;"... Desapaixonar-se dos medos. Dos nãos que secam a alegria de viver. Alimentar-se de memórias deliciosas e conversas entre você e suas saudades. Dessas que ninguém pode tirá-las de ti. Apaixonar-se por um sorriso. Por alguém. Por uma ideia louca que você pode ser na vida de alguém. Apaixonar-se por você.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não faz mal se chorar muitas ou algumas vezes. Chorar sempre faz chover, penso assim. E chover, sempre faz nascer. Ta vendo? No fim tudo volta a ser começo. Fica sempre tudo bem, meu bem. Sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descobrimos com o tempo que as palavras mais comuns são as mais deliciosas de serem ouvidas. Às vezes dificílimas de serem ditas. Descobrimos com o tempo que afinal pouco é muito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei se sou mais otimista do que as outras pessoas, mas sei que sou. Não sei se quero mais e com mais força o que quero do que as outras pessoas, mas sei que só sei ser assim. Não sei se sou mais ou se sou menos, se sou igual ou se sou diferente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que sou assim, de bem com a vida. Nem sempre, mas hoje sim."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vanessa Leonardi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://caixamgica.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;http://caixamgica.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&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/6289510357646665971-6157197905766295034?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6157197905766295034/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6157197905766295034' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6157197905766295034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6157197905766295034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/03/blog-post_21.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CYwk9xyuN-Y/TYgJjpUS6zI/AAAAAAAACQs/Hva99o0D4vw/s72-c/tumblr_koq9925OsZ1qzhfg5o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-4828739685842931932</id><published>2011-03-20T14:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T14:14:00.305-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guimarães Rosa'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mgai60vCZLE/TYZDrxj0j5I/AAAAAAAACQc/6WngPVrOv3A/s1600/1246894428699494.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586226807116697490" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mgai60vCZLE/TYZDrxj0j5I/AAAAAAAACQc/6WngPVrOv3A/s400/1246894428699494.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;"Mas eu gostava dele, dia mais dia, mais gostava.&lt;br /&gt;Digo o senhor: como um feitiço?&lt;br /&gt;Isso. Feito coisa-feita.&lt;br /&gt;Era ele estar perto de mim, e nada me faltava.&lt;br /&gt;Era ele fechar a cara e estar tristonho,&lt;br /&gt;e eu perdia meu sossego". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guimarães Rosa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-4828739685842931932?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/4828739685842931932/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=4828739685842931932' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4828739685842931932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4828739685842931932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/03/mas-eu-gostava-dele-dia-mais-dia-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mgai60vCZLE/TYZDrxj0j5I/AAAAAAAACQc/6WngPVrOv3A/s72-c/1246894428699494.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3344957058408350542</id><published>2011-03-20T00:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T01:01:13.235-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marisa Vieira'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b5VoVY8Tyb4/TYWJq5NfMbI/AAAAAAAACQM/OvjYgPHGGqI/s1600/bb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 296px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586022282827870642" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b5VoVY8Tyb4/TYWJq5NfMbI/AAAAAAAACQM/OvjYgPHGGqI/s400/bb.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;"se é verdade que a gente é o que o olho vê, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;que faço eu se minha retina só reflete você"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marisa Vieira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://mariplural.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://mariplural.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&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/6289510357646665971-3344957058408350542?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3344957058408350542/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3344957058408350542' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3344957058408350542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3344957058408350542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/03/se-e-verdade-que-gente-e-o-que-o-olho.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b5VoVY8Tyb4/TYWJq5NfMbI/AAAAAAAACQM/OvjYgPHGGqI/s72-c/bb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3765688582379213347</id><published>2011-03-20T00:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T00:52:53.477-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Priscila Rôde'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H2gE60AZC38/TYWHvsKSaLI/AAAAAAAACQE/nDrDf8C_7Os/s1600/4893c581e3fdf2e00dd1dc87fd91d38857a6252d.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586020166200879282" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H2gE60AZC38/TYWHvsKSaLI/AAAAAAAACQE/nDrDf8C_7Os/s400/4893c581e3fdf2e00dd1dc87fd91d38857a6252d.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...É que em mim, nessas horas, nessas prosas bem nossas que a vida acontece. Todos os dias."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Priscila Rôde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://priscilarode.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://priscilarode.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-3765688582379213347?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3765688582379213347/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3765688582379213347' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3765688582379213347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3765688582379213347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H2gE60AZC38/TYWHvsKSaLI/AAAAAAAACQE/nDrDf8C_7Os/s72-c/4893c581e3fdf2e00dd1dc87fd91d38857a6252d.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-7041164684964420415</id><published>2011-03-20T00:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T00:45:38.418-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eugenio de Andrade'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B7iBWJPgtq0/TYWGExUHyuI/AAAAAAAACP8/5W6I-4JYllU/s1600/sorr.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586018329338301154" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B7iBWJPgtq0/TYWGExUHyuI/AAAAAAAACP8/5W6I-4JYllU/s400/sorr.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Creio que foi o sorriso,&lt;br /&gt;sorriso foi quem abriu a porta.&lt;br /&gt;Era um sorriso com muita luz&lt;br /&gt;lá dentro, apetecia&lt;br /&gt;entrar nele, tirar a roupa, ficar&lt;br /&gt;nu dentro daquele sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;Correr, navegar, morrer naquele sorriso."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eugenio de Andrade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-7041164684964420415?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/7041164684964420415/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=7041164684964420415' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7041164684964420415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7041164684964420415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/03/creio-que-foi-o-sorriso-sorriso-foi.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B7iBWJPgtq0/TYWGExUHyuI/AAAAAAAACP8/5W6I-4JYllU/s72-c/sorr.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1715710747021467709</id><published>2011-03-19T18:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T19:00:56.339-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lua'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_4-MYAQNFMQ/TYU1QNXMKjI/AAAAAAAACP0/tq1VSBZ8T5o/s1600/tumblr_l7nvcspWNI1qbb92eo1_500_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 281px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585929465404074546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_4-MYAQNFMQ/TYU1QNXMKjI/AAAAAAAACP0/tq1VSBZ8T5o/s400/tumblr_l7nvcspWNI1qbb92eo1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;"E hoje ouvindo aquela musica que você tanto gostava, lembrei; do tempo em que você me escrevia, que você me ouvia. Lembrei do sentimento, do momento, de tudo que era meu, que era seu, da nossa troca; de carinho, de colo, de palavras. Lembrei da brincadeira, dos sorrisos. Lembrei do olhar, do abraço, do aconchego, do beijo. Parei, e no tempo voltei, mais uma vez, mas não me abalei, não chorei, só lembrei..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lua&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://entremagiaerealidade.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;http://entremagiaerealidade.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-1715710747021467709?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1715710747021467709/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1715710747021467709' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1715710747021467709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1715710747021467709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/03/e-hoje-ouvindo-aquela-musica-que-voce.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_4-MYAQNFMQ/TYU1QNXMKjI/AAAAAAAACP0/tq1VSBZ8T5o/s72-c/tumblr_l7nvcspWNI1qbb92eo1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-5434364211212131</id><published>2011-03-19T13:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T13:29:58.422-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marina Nobre'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wvn-oIGOpUk/TYTnjg1PDSI/AAAAAAAACPs/vDolorsblC0/s1600/tumblr_lbivwfWhoY1qaycf7o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 273px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585844035140914466" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wvn-oIGOpUk/TYTnjg1PDSI/AAAAAAAACPs/vDolorsblC0/s400/tumblr_lbivwfWhoY1qaycf7o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;"Eu desligo o despertador com uma porrada, isso quando escuto! Eu tenho medo de baratas voadoras, e gente brega me deixa agoniada. Eu não me conformo com tudo o que é injusto, e na maioria das noites tenho vontade de voar; e consigo... depois que fecho os olhos! Eu costumo rir alto demais, as vezes até sozinha; eu prefiro ser neutra na maior parte do tempo, porque não dói nem faz cócegas. Não aguento esperar, e por falta de atenção, quase morro atropelada... todo dia!&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou apaixonada por sardas, mas não tenho nenhuma. Eu descobri a pouco tempo que sou mais mimada, do que pensava ser. E fico emburrada quando não tenho o que quero. Eu sou ansiosa, e curiosa... eu sou ciumenta, e despreocupada... eu sou preguiçosa; e estou apaixonada!&lt;br /&gt;Tenho medo de filmes de terror, mas simpatizo com vampiros. Sou orgulhosa até certo ponto, e sou paciente até certo ponto! Sofri um acidente na quinta série, causado pela minha melhor amiga. Não se preocupe, troquei minhas amizades. Conheço uma pessoa que me faz rir com um olhar, conheço outra que me faz sentir saudade quando vai embora, conheço um alguém que conhece a morte, mas continua aqui. Conheço todo mundo sem saber o nome... só não conheço a mim mesma, com todas essas informações!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marina Nobre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://delicadaeegoista.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://delicadaeegoista.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-5434364211212131?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/5434364211212131/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=5434364211212131' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5434364211212131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5434364211212131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/03/eu-desligo-o-despertador-com-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wvn-oIGOpUk/TYTnjg1PDSI/AAAAAAAACPs/vDolorsblC0/s72-c/tumblr_lbivwfWhoY1qaycf7o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2465296701613230569</id><published>2011-03-19T12:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T13:30:23.112-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maria Fernanda'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C3EaDKxHXhE/TYTbGkRag9I/AAAAAAAACPk/Laq8V5ucE9Q/s1600/tumblr_legqbegT991qaycf7o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 289px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585830343708672978" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C3EaDKxHXhE/TYTbGkRag9I/AAAAAAAACPk/Laq8V5ucE9Q/s400/tumblr_legqbegT991qaycf7o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;"Há de querer ser leve, assoprada, bailarina. Dente-de-leão dançando no vento, voando sem pressa e sem saber aonde vai — e aonde quer — chegar. Frágil menina forte, que disfarça a fragilidade e os medos infantis nos risos de mulher suficiente, competente e dependente, escondendo por detrás dos passos firmes a carência, as paixões e as necessidades, que vão além de um copo d’água e de comida freqüente. Tem-se sede de amor, de carinho tempo inteiro, de toque e mais toque e um pouco mais de toque, só para não faltar. Necessário ser presente, fazer-se presente e doar-se presente, desejá-la com leveza e segurá-la como se pudesse quebrar. E pode. É moça de porcelana, de vidro por vezes, tamanha capacidade que tem de deixar transparecer, por mais que sempre e sempre e todavida tente disfarçar. Leitura fácil e singela, basta penetrar o olhar e fazer coceiras na alma. Tudo se revela num desviar de olhar, que enrubesce e que cala falando mais do que poderia — e deveria — contar. E se permite, e deixa ser levada e envolta e segura, e desfalece em braços que sabem o que querem, em corpos que dizem mais do que a boca, em beijos que revelam segredos e em danças sem músicas, ritmadas alternadas, num desfecho digno de star. E chove purpurina e o céu se torna particular e dela, todo dela, pronto para lhe levar e assoprar e permitir que seja, que voe, que chova. Que vá parar nalgum lugar. E vai, fugindo, sentindo, amando, sendo toda-toda e pedindo pra ficar..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maria Fernanda Probst &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bonequinhadeseda.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://bonequinhadeseda.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-2465296701613230569?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2465296701613230569/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2465296701613230569' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2465296701613230569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2465296701613230569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/03/ha-de-querer-ser-leve-assoprada.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C3EaDKxHXhE/TYTbGkRag9I/AAAAAAAACPk/Laq8V5ucE9Q/s72-c/tumblr_legqbegT991qaycf7o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-8513432337553128689</id><published>2011-01-11T12:00:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T12:09:38.008-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Duda Araújo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TSxx1uGtO9I/AAAAAAAACPA/_Gw77BHy7qg/s1600/42-16919288.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560944807618886610" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TSxx1uGtO9I/AAAAAAAACPA/_Gw77BHy7qg/s400/42-16919288.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Declaração Universal da Amizade&lt;br /&gt;Adotada e Proclamada pela República Federativa dos Sonhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A presente declaração proclama a amizade como o melhor presente que um homem poderá dar ao outro ao longo da vida, devendo ser direito universal e inalienável de todos e tendo como único objetivo promover e difundir o amor entre irmãos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artigo I&lt;br /&gt;É direito fundamental do homem livre a construção de laços de amizade e toda pessoa, independentemente de sexo, raça ou credo, deverá ter pelo menos um melhor amigo ao longo da vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parágrafo único: Entre os melhores amigos serão permitidas as maiores intimidades, sendo possível confiar, inclusive, segredos que não se contaria nem para si mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artigo II&lt;br /&gt;Apenas critérios da ordem do coração serão aceitos na construção de uma amizade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artigo III&lt;br /&gt;Homem algum jamais padecerá de uma mão amiga em momentos de queda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artigo IV&lt;br /&gt;A todo e qualquer amigo será dado o dom do resgate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artigo V&lt;br /&gt;1. Fica determinado que os amigos deverão, pelo menos uma vez na vida: dormir na casa um do outro, brincar de cabaninha durante a madrugada, participar de promissores projetos de negócios que jamais darão certo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. É permitido aos amigos o fracasso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. É livre a existência de amigos imaginários e permite-se, inclusive, que um animal seja considerado o melhor amigo do homem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artigo VI&lt;br /&gt;Nenhum amigo sumirá arbitrariamente da vida do outro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artigo VII&lt;br /&gt;"Eu te amo" será a frase de ordem numa relação de amizade e deverá ser dita sem pudores, em qualquer instante do dia ou da noite, sob quaisquer circunstâncias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artigo VIII&lt;br /&gt;É permitido a um amigo morar no abraço do outro sempre que isso for necessário. Quando não for, também.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artigo IX&lt;br /&gt;É permitido aos amigos brigar e até machucar verbalmente um ao outro, entendendo os instantes de crise como necessários para o fortalecimento da amizade, desde que os laços sejam reatados com nós ainda mais firmes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parágrafo único: A pena paga em discussões de longa duração deverá ser de abraços, carinhos e sorrisos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artigo X&lt;br /&gt;Um amigo poderá contatar o outro a qualquer instante, independentemente da distância ou entraves logísticos de outra ordem, pessoalmente, através de cartas, telefonemas, torpedos, pombo correio ou sinal de fogo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Duda Araújo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://oinventariopessoal.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://oinventariopessoal.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-8513432337553128689?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/8513432337553128689/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=8513432337553128689' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8513432337553128689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8513432337553128689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/01/declaracao-universal-da-amizade-adotada.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TSxx1uGtO9I/AAAAAAAACPA/_Gw77BHy7qg/s72-c/42-16919288.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-7765591785315682690</id><published>2011-01-10T23:22:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T23:24:51.320-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tati Bernardi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TSu_E0TwroI/AAAAAAAACOo/1b4UTUqk1yQ/s1600/Where_Are_You_Now__by_Iza87_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560748254400917122" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TSu_E0TwroI/AAAAAAAACOo/1b4UTUqk1yQ/s400/Where_Are_You_Now__by_Iza87_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eles se amam, todo mundo sabe mas ninguém acredita. Não conseguem ficar juntos. Simples. Complexo. Quase impossivel. Ele continua vivendo sua vidinha idealizada e ela continua idealizando sua vidinha. Alguns dizem que isso jamais daria certo. Outros dizem que foram feitos um para o outro. Eles preferem não dizer nada. Preferem meias palavras e milhares de coisas não ditas. Ela quer atitudes, ele quer ela. Todas as noites ela pensa nele, e todas as manhãs ele pensa nela. E assim vão vivendo até quando a vontade de estar com o outro for maior do que os outros. Enquanto o mundo vive lá fora, dentro de cada um tem um pedaço do outro. E mesmo sorrindo por ai, cada um sabe a falta que o outro faz. Nunca mais se viram, nunca mais se tocaram e nunca mais serão os mesmos. É fácil porque os dias passam rápidos demais, é dificil porque o sentimento fica, vai ficando e permanece dentro deles. E todos os dias eles se perguntam o que fazer. .E todos os dias eles se perguntam o que fazer.E imaginam os abraços, as noites com dores nas costas esquecidas pelo primeiro sorriso do outro. E que no momento certo se reencontrem e que nada, nada seja por acaso."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tati Bernardi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-7765591785315682690?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/7765591785315682690/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=7765591785315682690' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7765591785315682690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7765591785315682690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/01/eles-se-amam-todo-mundo-sabe-mas.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TSu_E0TwroI/AAAAAAAACOo/1b4UTUqk1yQ/s72-c/Where_Are_You_Now__by_Iza87_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-8575402955035049211</id><published>2011-01-10T23:15:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T23:19:02.750-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Notebook'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TSu9g93U44I/AAAAAAAACOg/kE6ObXcElIQ/s1600/27zx8aw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 350px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560746538979091330" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TSu9g93U44I/AAAAAAAACOg/kE6ObXcElIQ/s400/27zx8aw.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Noαh&lt;/em&gt;: (...) ficαr comigo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Allie&lt;/em&gt;: Ficαr com você? Prα quê? Olhe prα nós, já estαmos brigαndo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Noαh&lt;/em&gt;: Mαs isso é o que nós fαzemos! Nós brigαmos! Você diz que eu estou sendo um αrrogαnte filho dα putα, e eu te digo que você está sendo um pé no sαco... o que você é, 99% do tempo. Eu não tenho medo de ferir seus sentimentos, porque depois de dois segundos, você voltαrá α ser um pé no sαco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Allie&lt;/em&gt;: Então o que?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Noαh&lt;/em&gt;: Então não será fácil, será muito difícil. E nós teremos que trαbαlhαr nisso todos os diαs, mαs eu quero isso, por que eu quero você."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                           &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; The Notebook&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-8575402955035049211?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/8575402955035049211/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=8575402955035049211' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8575402955035049211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8575402955035049211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2011/01/noh.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TSu9g93U44I/AAAAAAAACOg/kE6ObXcElIQ/s72-c/27zx8aw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-7282010097297914642</id><published>2010-12-15T20:30:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T20:34:15.684-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fabrício Carpinejar'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQlQSQ0EYNI/AAAAAAAACN8/lHhe7SfIqXI/s1600/C.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551056290392072402" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQlQSQ0EYNI/AAAAAAAACN8/lHhe7SfIqXI/s400/C.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;"Você tem medo de se apaixonar e não prever o que poderá sumir, o que poderá desaparecer. Medo de se roubar para dar a ele, de ser roubada e pedir de volta. Medo de que ele seja um canalha, medo de que seja um poeta, medo de que seja amoroso, medo de que seja pilantra, incerta do que realmente quer - talvez todos em um único homem, todos um pouco por dia. Medo do imprevisível que foi planejado. Medo de que ele morda os lábios e prove o seu sangue".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fabrício Carpinejar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.carpinejar.com.br/"&gt;http://www.carpinejar.com.br/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-7282010097297914642?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/7282010097297914642/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=7282010097297914642' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7282010097297914642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7282010097297914642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/12/voce-tem-medo-de-se-apaixonar-e-nao.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQlQSQ0EYNI/AAAAAAAACN8/lHhe7SfIqXI/s72-c/C.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2029315390176826655</id><published>2010-12-11T15:23:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T15:28:11.907-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='(Cris...)'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQPByaMieEI/AAAAAAAACNk/CtGn8vzQmec/s1600/tumblr_l9kupyQnfs1qcwfxxo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549492237620115522" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQPByaMieEI/AAAAAAAACNk/CtGn8vzQmec/s400/tumblr_l9kupyQnfs1qcwfxxo1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To com saudade do teu cheiro na minha pele. Saudade de arder na tua febre quando tua boca me põe louca, teu suor invade meus poros, tua língua explora meu corpo e teus lábios me fazem amor... Saudade da tua voz sussurrando no meu ouvido, me pedindo pra dizer que eu sou tua, arrancando minha roupa, me arrepiando inteira quando me puxa para a tua fome, me deixando nua no momento em que queimo no teu beijo, me afogo no teu fogo, mergulho no teu gosto, arranho tuas costas, e sussurro que sou tua... (completa e irremediavelmente tua...!) Saudade de dormirmos agarradinhos, acordar no teu toque, na música que nos desperta, no instante em que me vejo nos teus olhos e o desejo arde de novo em nós... Saudade até, de quando você me deixa de lado por causa do violão (um dia ainda sumo com ele... eu juro! rs). Saudade da canção que brota gostosa da tua boca, do tom dos teus olhos que muda conforme você sorri (cor de mel quando você está sério, mais verdes quando está feliz), do timbre da tua voz me arrepiando, do teu coração no ritmo do meu corpo quando te enxergo por dentro e você me olha tão fundo e me canta o amor. Saudade de tudo que me faz lembrar você, até do blues que nem curto muito, mas que agora escuto só porque de um certo modo te traz pra mais perto de mim. Saudade do mundo inteiro cabendo aqui no meu quarto quando você na minha cama está, me amansa na tua loucura, me enlouquece no teu cheiro, na hora exata em que te caço entre lençóis e me derramo nua em teu suor. Saudade do teu sorriso, aquele que torna tudo mais fácil, num instante de ternura única, que não sei bem o porquê você parece querer esconder (teu sorriso revela o teu lado mais bonito). Saudade até do teu mau-humor quando quero conversar e não deixo você dormir. Saudade até mesmo de você me dizendo que faço tudo errado, e eu retrucar, só para não ficar por baixo, que você não acerta uma. Saudade do vinho, do cheiro, do beijo, do fondue e da pizza. Saudade de ouvir você corrigindo a pronúncia do meu francês que eu nem sabia ser francês (RS), saudade de corrigir os pequenos deslizes do teu português. Saudade de cada detalhe da nossa história, do que fomos e de tudo que ainda podemos ser. Memória do que está por vir. Saudade do que não aconteceu (ainda!). De pegar a estrada pra praia ouvindo Laura Pauzini ( e nem adianta fazer cara feia, você deu idéia, agora agüenta RS ). De pão de queijo no Hotel Fazenda. De fazer amor, na serra, em frente à lareira. Da casinha na montanha, no mato, na cidade ou no campo (com você em qualquer lugar). Do fogão à lenha, do melhor feijão que você já comeu na tua vida (aquele que vou aprender a fazer só pra você). Da nossa cozinha e da varanda. Do jardim, cheiro de mato e lavanda, e o melhor cheiro: o teu!. Do periquito Ludovico e do papagaio Gervásio (RS). Do beija-flor todas as manhãs na nossa janela. De ouvir Beatles com teu filho. De ter você e ele comigo, contar histórias pra ele dormir, brincar de bicho-papão, fazer caretas no espelho, chorar de tanto rir. Deitar na grama e contar estrelas, pular amarelinha, soltar pipa, jogar bola, ralar o joelho, rolar no chão. De ser cúmplice dos teus atos, descobrir o mundo na ternura do teu abraço. Ser o motivo do teu riso, a rotina da tua pele, a promessa dos teus olhos, a proposta da tua boca, a resposta do beijo. Pulsar no teu íntimo... Fazer do teu lugar o meu... Por tudo isso, pelo que eu sinto e que sei você sente também. Por você, por mim, é que te ensaio um poema, arrisco na rima, me perco no verso. Só para te dizer dessa saudade. Pra te falar o quanto você me faz falta, do quanto te quero, pra te mostrar que não é a ausência de afeto o que há, talvez o que sobra dentro de nós morra um pouco no gesto falho, na entrega pela metade, nas palavras repetidas, no silêncio egoísta, do medo de ser nós mesmos, de expor nossos defeitos, e de repente descobrir que em meio a tantas diferenças somos tão iguais...Sinceramente não sei. Só sei que não quero desistir, quero continuar tentando, descobrir o jeito certo do teu jeito se encaixar no meu. Porque estamos apenas começando. Porque não quero deixar que se perca em mim o desejo de permanecer em nós dois."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Cris...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://precisotantoaproveitarvoce.zip.net/"&gt;http://precisotantoaproveitarvoce.zip.net/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-2029315390176826655?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2029315390176826655/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2029315390176826655' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2029315390176826655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2029315390176826655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/12/to-com-saudade-do-teu-cheiro-na-minha.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQPByaMieEI/AAAAAAAACNk/CtGn8vzQmec/s72-c/tumblr_l9kupyQnfs1qcwfxxo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-345752097442919974</id><published>2010-12-11T15:10:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T15:13:29.043-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yasha'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQO-tM_Os7I/AAAAAAAACNc/NfLwej8CFzo/s1600/9ec3c1f6f3bdca7404e0d4aa2e608cddcd98269b.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 374px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549488849640403890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQO-tM_Os7I/AAAAAAAACNc/NfLwej8CFzo/s400/9ec3c1f6f3bdca7404e0d4aa2e608cddcd98269b.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Porque é intenso e transborda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Ei, você que passa por esse caminho, leve um recado meu pra uma moça de lá. Quando a vir saberá no mesmo instante sobre quem lhe falo, é a flor mais brilhante que haverá na estrada. Ela respira girassol e coragem, ela perfuma todo aquele chão de terra e de casinhas de sapê. Você que me ouve, lembre-se de mim quando chegar lá, e quando encontrá-la andando com urgência - com aquele seu ar de ocupada demais - respire forte para chamar sua atenção (ela sempre está atenta), e quando ela levantar os olhos desconfiados pra depois desviar, dê altura suficiente a tua voz e diga a ela que as estrelas, enfim, resolveram sorrir em sua direção. Diga que as flores de plástico do jardim morreram mesmo e aquilo que ela vê agora são flores de verdade, desabrocham, mas não morrem. Diz a ela que o cenário de madeira-papel-e-cola deu lugar a uma paisagem-colorida-e-linda, e que os desertos agora são campos de orquídeas e de margaridinhas brancas. Diz que o último soluço do choro de ontem foi mesmo o estímulo do primeiro riso eterno, que a Felicidade resolveu lhe dar boas-vindas de manhã até que se acabem todas as manhãs de sua vida, e que todos os dias a própria felicidade sente saudades dela. Diz pra ela que as lagartas já não usam asinhas de arames com papel celofane pra contracenar bons momentos e que aqueles encantos sobrevoando ao seu redor são borboletas de verdade, acabaram-se os móbiles. Diz que a água agora é límpida sim, e que todo o esforço valeu a pena, que tudo ficou bem. Diz pra essa flor que o que ela ta vendo agora é realidade.&lt;br /&gt;Diz pra ela que o Amor chegou, enfim."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yasha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://l-a-b-i-r-i-n-t-o.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://l-a-b-i-r-i-n-t-o.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-345752097442919974?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/345752097442919974/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=345752097442919974' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/345752097442919974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/345752097442919974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/12/porque-e-intenso-e-transborda.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQO-tM_Os7I/AAAAAAAACNc/NfLwej8CFzo/s72-c/9ec3c1f6f3bdca7404e0d4aa2e608cddcd98269b.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3691113339013448087</id><published>2010-12-09T11:27:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T11:38:23.372-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vanessa Leonardi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQDpKKLIGdI/AAAAAAAACNU/8xogmll9Ec8/s1600/To_Breathe_A_Tiny_Universe_by_Out_of_the_rain.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548691101659437522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQDpKKLIGdI/AAAAAAAACNU/8xogmll9Ec8/s400/To_Breathe_A_Tiny_Universe_by_Out_of_the_rain.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"Agora assim, olhando por cima do ombro ainda fazia por aceitar coisas que não são de fato lembranças. São só o resultado de uma espécie de brincadeira. Dessas que o tempo deixou pra trás. Um tipo de telefone sem fio, essa 'tecnologia' de inventar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olhar para trás pode ser visto também como um tipo de segunda chance. Ou seja, tentar de novo mas, sem a ignorância da primeira vez. Pensamento costumeiro de quem tem uma visão caleidoscópica das coisas. Cores. Formas. Jogos. Enganos. Disfarce. Reprise. Novidade. Acertos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numa espécie de filme, acompanhava o desenrolar do tempo sentada no lombo de um cavalo. Balança pra lá, balança pra cá. Tudo seguia numa desordem mansa, sem roteiro. Aos montinhos as esperanças iam se acumulando nos cantos. Só a espera de um vento pra tomarem força e fazer verdade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem tem um olhar de mil auroras não sabe mais como olhar pra baixo. E mesmo assim quanto tentam tapar um dos olhos, contorna dizendo que é pirata. Ganha e perde a vida com alegria. Sai pra colher flores todo dia, mesmo as de plástico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desaprendi de ser adulta. Acho que a vida tem mesmo dessas delicadezas: na hora certa termina uma história e muda o assunto"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Vanessa Leonardi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://caixamgica.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;http://caixamgica.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&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/6289510357646665971-3691113339013448087?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3691113339013448087/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3691113339013448087' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3691113339013448087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3691113339013448087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/12/agora-assim-olhando-por-cima-do-ombro.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TQDpKKLIGdI/AAAAAAAACNU/8xogmll9Ec8/s72-c/To_Breathe_A_Tiny_Universe_by_Out_of_the_rain.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-5092072171837742878</id><published>2010-11-28T22:54:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T22:58:17.858-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ni...'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPMIn5otuqI/AAAAAAAACMk/WpsGpkobFo4/s1600/mulher%252Bdormindo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 319px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544785047802722978" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPMIn5otuqI/AAAAAAAACMk/WpsGpkobFo4/s400/mulher%252Bdormindo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;'Ela sonhava com perfumes que não evaporam,&lt;br /&gt;Com flores que não murcham,&lt;br /&gt;Com amor que não se acaba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viajava em um mundo cheio de sons, cores e poesias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo era tão belo que ela escolheu não voltar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mudou para dentro de seus sonhos&lt;br /&gt;E se abrigou nos braços da fantasia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora sim - pensou ela,&lt;br /&gt;Dormirei todos os dias no teu abraço...!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Ni...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://rastrosde.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;http://rastrosde.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-5092072171837742878?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/5092072171837742878/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=5092072171837742878' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5092072171837742878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5092072171837742878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/ela-sonhava-com-perfumes-que-nao.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPMIn5otuqI/AAAAAAAACMk/WpsGpkobFo4/s72-c/mulher%252Bdormindo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-9042519603443097741</id><published>2010-11-28T00:34:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T00:41:28.354-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Geraldo de Barros'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPHOlvkzdpI/AAAAAAAACMQ/RsjdRG3aFkc/s1600/Fallen_by_indorock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544439764091106962" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPHOlvkzdpI/AAAAAAAACMQ/RsjdRG3aFkc/s400/Fallen_by_indorock.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;"ando tropeçando nas dobras do silêncio"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Geraldo de Barros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://semcatraca.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;http://semcatraca.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&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/6289510357646665971-9042519603443097741?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/9042519603443097741/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=9042519603443097741' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/9042519603443097741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/9042519603443097741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/ando-tropecando-nas-dobras-do-silencio.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPHOlvkzdpI/AAAAAAAACMQ/RsjdRG3aFkc/s72-c/Fallen_by_indorock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-4203302844213431162</id><published>2010-11-27T22:03:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T22:10:41.796-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maria Rita'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGrbo8UWyI/AAAAAAAACMI/BoybzG_xXr8/s1600/casalout.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544401107605019426" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGrbo8UWyI/AAAAAAAACMI/BoybzG_xXr8/s400/casalout.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Encanta-me com este teu olhar de quem entende mais de mim do que eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabe tão bem enumerar cada um dos meus despropósitos que chego a enrubescer diante da tua forma de me tocar com estes teus olhos de ver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faz-me nua para com os meus segredos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chego quase a acreditar que é capaz de me amar ainda que eu seja tão cheia de inconstâncias e defeitos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorrio internamente quando meio que de repente alguém nos chama de ‘casal’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gostei de me enxergar no teu olhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Confesso...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda que o amor fosse uma simples questão de escolha &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;por certo escolheria te amar!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maria Rita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://despertardaessencia.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://despertardaessencia.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-4203302844213431162?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/4203302844213431162/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=4203302844213431162' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4203302844213431162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4203302844213431162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/encanta-me-com-este-teu-olhar-de-quem.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGrbo8UWyI/AAAAAAAACMI/BoybzG_xXr8/s72-c/casalout.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1712015682241174595</id><published>2010-11-27T21:43:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T21:46:03.097-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amanda Arrais'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGl28IUP9I/AAAAAAAACMA/ThPQnmJ5FdU/s1600/3d3130c7cd6d97785e7d0a683bfb98aa6141bafd.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544394979542319058" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGl28IUP9I/AAAAAAAACMA/ThPQnmJ5FdU/s400/3d3130c7cd6d97785e7d0a683bfb98aa6141bafd.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"[...] Eu que espalho minha felicidade por aí e não sei me encontrar em quase nenhum lugar. Eu que emudeço em silêncio e calo minhas feridas no mais fundo de cada lágrima que quase nunca cai. Choro, esperneio, grito, rebelo. Faço tudo em silêncio, é uma confusão aqui dentro, tu sabes. E sinto que ouves meu barulho, escutas minhas guerras.&lt;br /&gt;E sabe o que eu começo a pensar? Que eu não sei amar. Não sei, não... Naquela minha velha mania de extremos, eu te amo além do que enxergo, escrevo, narro, até do que sinto. Não sei o que fazer com tanto-tudo e então faço essas tortuosidades, vou cometendo uns erros vazios. Fico assim: como uma criança perdida em loja de departamento entre tantos setores distintos, é tanta cor! Me perco entre cabides, placas, luzes, mas não demoro, me encontro. Volto. Volto pra ti porque encontro minha casa, onde tá meu coração. Pelos dias em que eu fui por tempo demais e o medo te tomou, peço desculpas. As crianças gostam mesmo de correr por aí, soltas demais, mas cansam. Cansam sempre e é necessário ter uma casa para qual retornar.&lt;br /&gt;Se fico parada diante das nossas mudanças é pela tranquilidade que nossa certeza me dá, por ter paciência e saber esperar os meus, teus, nossos momentos nos tempos em que eles vêm sempre. Adquiri a calma necessária e só quero te ver feliz, nos ver feliz, no caminho que for e eles se entrelaçam sempre que eu sei."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amanda Arrais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://404aa.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://404aa.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-1712015682241174595?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1712015682241174595/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1712015682241174595' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1712015682241174595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1712015682241174595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post_27.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGl28IUP9I/AAAAAAAACMA/ThPQnmJ5FdU/s72-c/3d3130c7cd6d97785e7d0a683bfb98aa6141bafd.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1740274334069876497</id><published>2010-11-27T21:33:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T21:36:20.774-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mário Quintana'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGjh8ljdbI/AAAAAAAACL4/9GRURrfqvf8/s1600/4cc5b71881368df2306bc4ca107343812506330d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544392419864442290" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGjh8ljdbI/AAAAAAAACL4/9GRURrfqvf8/s400/4cc5b71881368df2306bc4ca107343812506330d.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;"Quero poder fechar meus olhos e imaginar alguém. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;E poder ter a absoluta certeza de que esse alguém &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;também pensa em mim quando fecha os olhos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;e que faço falta quando não estou por perto."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mario Quintana&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-1740274334069876497?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1740274334069876497/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1740274334069876497' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1740274334069876497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1740274334069876497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/quero-poder-fechar-meus-olhos-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGjh8ljdbI/AAAAAAAACL4/9GRURrfqvf8/s72-c/4cc5b71881368df2306bc4ca107343812506330d.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2325350427246368912</id><published>2010-11-27T21:27:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T21:29:56.665-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tati Bernardi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGiNzVa8WI/AAAAAAAACLw/AnBbABoXkfc/s1600/tumblr_l8az09NwZh1qcu2a2o1_500_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544390974271844706" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGiNzVa8WI/AAAAAAAACLw/AnBbABoXkfc/s400/tumblr_l8az09NwZh1qcu2a2o1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eu tinha motivos reais, palpáveis e óbvios para te amar. Você é bonito, seu abraço é quente, seu sorriso tem mil quilômetros iluminados, seu humor me faria rir 100 encarnações e você é bom em tudo, mesmo não querendo ser bom em nada. (...) Amava seus erros assim como amava os acertos, porque o que eu amava, enfim, era você."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tati Bernardi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2325350427246368912?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2325350427246368912/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2325350427246368912' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2325350427246368912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2325350427246368912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/eu-tinha-motivos-reais-palpaveis-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPGiNzVa8WI/AAAAAAAACLw/AnBbABoXkfc/s72-c/tumblr_l8az09NwZh1qcu2a2o1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-4585443663913995842</id><published>2010-11-26T19:08:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-26T19:10:26.733-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Erikah Azzevedo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPAv30co1OI/AAAAAAAACLg/j8Z5V8r1ZH4/s1600/sensual-mulher-sexy-feminina_thumb%255B3%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 383px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543983777311151330" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPAv30co1OI/AAAAAAAACLg/j8Z5V8r1ZH4/s400/sensual-mulher-sexy-feminina_thumb%255B3%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ela desejava olhares escancarados&lt;br /&gt;e mãos de fome na tua pele de sedes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Precisava escandalizar e romper conceitos,&lt;br /&gt;se fazer fratura exposta do desejo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gostava do que mexia e remexia,&lt;br /&gt;virava e desvirava,&lt;br /&gt;maliciava&lt;br /&gt;propiciava&lt;br /&gt;e fazia seduzir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exigia um que a mais de ousadia,&lt;br /&gt;algo que desatinasse ao ouvido,&lt;br /&gt;desbaratinasse lógicas,&lt;br /&gt;desorganizasse os sentidos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Era desesperada em sentir...)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;...Erikah Azzevedo...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://palavrearintenso.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://palavrearintenso.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&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/6289510357646665971-4585443663913995842?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/4585443663913995842/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=4585443663913995842' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4585443663913995842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4585443663913995842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/ela-desejava-olhares-escancarados-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPAv30co1OI/AAAAAAAACLg/j8Z5V8r1ZH4/s72-c/sensual-mulher-sexy-feminina_thumb%255B3%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-7239686520131354305</id><published>2010-11-26T18:56:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-26T18:59:07.936-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Renata Fagundes'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPAtVrYUsfI/AAAAAAAACLY/XEsnpW6gwJ4/s1600/0001sd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543980991738327538" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPAtVrYUsfI/AAAAAAAACLY/XEsnpW6gwJ4/s400/0001sd.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lágrimas não combinam com amor...&lt;br /&gt;lágrima é o amor se afogando, pedindo socorro&lt;br /&gt;é chuva por dentro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amor é essa coisa que faz a gente ser feliz por nada&lt;br /&gt;é esse sol que sai do coração e ilumina tudo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Renata Fagundes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://ctricocintilante.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://ctricocintilante.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-7239686520131354305?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/7239686520131354305/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=7239686520131354305' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7239686520131354305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7239686520131354305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/lagrimas-nao-combinam-com-amor.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TPAtVrYUsfI/AAAAAAAACLY/XEsnpW6gwJ4/s72-c/0001sd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3336924977614243222</id><published>2010-11-21T21:36:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-21T21:41:47.697-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Legião Urbana'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOm79HBv78I/AAAAAAAACKw/IR6V-7aGTJo/s1600/stacie_geoff_rekindlethefire_081809.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542167474988904386" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOm79HBv78I/AAAAAAAACKw/IR6V-7aGTJo/s400/stacie_geoff_rekindlethefire_081809.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;"E nossa história não estará pelo avesso&lt;br /&gt;Assim, sem final feliz.&lt;br /&gt;Teremos coisas bonitas pra contar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E até lá, vamos viver&lt;br /&gt;Temos muito ainda por fazer&lt;br /&gt;Não olhe pra trás&lt;br /&gt;Apenas começamos.&lt;br /&gt;O mundo começa agora&lt;br /&gt;Apenas começamos."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Legião Urbana&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-3336924977614243222?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3336924977614243222/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3336924977614243222' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3336924977614243222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3336924977614243222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/e-nossa-historia-nao-estara-pelo-avesso.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOm79HBv78I/AAAAAAAACKw/IR6V-7aGTJo/s72-c/stacie_geoff_rekindlethefire_081809.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-8974688818448867435</id><published>2010-11-21T21:21:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-21T21:26:47.321-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Natália'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOm4OX9UqNI/AAAAAAAACKg/PJT0NdaqrcM/s1600/corey1pbyyao5StjJl_D5vzm1WBOAh70PgdssOJ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 254px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542163373545007314" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOm4OX9UqNI/AAAAAAAACKg/PJT0NdaqrcM/s400/corey1pbyyao5StjJl_D5vzm1WBOAh70PgdssOJ.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;"...Porque o amor havia lhe tomado pelas mãos.&lt;br /&gt;E ela, neste momento, se deixaria levar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Natália&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://taiagarridoii.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://taiagarridoii.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&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/6289510357646665971-8974688818448867435?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/8974688818448867435/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=8974688818448867435' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8974688818448867435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8974688818448867435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOm4OX9UqNI/AAAAAAAACKg/PJT0NdaqrcM/s72-c/corey1pbyyao5StjJl_D5vzm1WBOAh70PgdssOJ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1148250154840196425</id><published>2010-11-20T13:10:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T13:17:33.573-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Verônica Heiss'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOf0BuaIagI/AAAAAAAACKY/-d6hzr5S-_Y/s1600/94a36eab4b1c0cedbef49eaab66ee8938a68b883.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 374px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541666176977365506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOf0BuaIagI/AAAAAAAACKY/-d6hzr5S-_Y/s400/94a36eab4b1c0cedbef49eaab66ee8938a68b883.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Não pretendo te contar sobre minhas lutas mentais. Você terá nas mãos minha simplicidade e minha leveza, que podem não ser totalmente verdadeiras, mas foram criadas com muito carinho pra não assustar pessoas como você. Não vou ficar falando sobre a complexidade dos meus pensamentos, minha dualidade ou minhas dúvidas sobre qualquer sentimento do mundo. Vou te deixar com a melhor parte, porque eu sei que você merece. Guardo pra mim as crises de identidade e a vontade de sumir. Não vou dissertar sobre minhas fragilidades e minhas inseguranças. Talvez eu te diga algumas vezes sobre minha tristeza, mas só pra ganhar um pouquinho mais de carinho. Ofereço meu bom humor e minha paciência e você deve saber que esta não é uma oferta muito comum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se você tivesse chegado antes, eu não teria notado. Se demorasse um pouco mais, eu não teria esperado. Você anda acertando muita coisa, mesmo sem perceber. Você tem me ganhado nos detalhes e aposto que nem desconfia. Mas já que você chegou no momento certo, vou te pedir que fique. Mesmo que o futuro seja de incertezas, mesmo que não haja nada duradouro prescrito pra gente. Esse é um pedido egoísta, porque na verdade eu sei que se nada der realmente certo, vou ficar sem chão. Mas por outro lado, posso te fazer feliz também. É um risco. Eu pulo, se você me der a mão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você não precisa saber que eu choro porque me sinto pequena num mundo gigante. Nem que eu faço coisas estúpidas quando estou carente. Você nunca vai saber da minha mania de me expor em palavras, que eu escrevo o tempo todo, em qualquer lugar. Muito menos que eu estou escrevendo sobre você neste exato momento. E não pense que é falta de consideração eu dividir tanto de mim com tanta gente e excluir você dessa minha segunda vida, porque há duas maneiras de saber o que eu não digo sobre mim: lendo nas entrelinhas dos meus textos e olhando nos meus olhos. E a segunda opção ninguém mais tem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Verônica Heiss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://h-veronica.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://h-veronica.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-1148250154840196425?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1148250154840196425/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1148250154840196425' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1148250154840196425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1148250154840196425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/nao-pretendo-te-contar-sobre-minhas.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOf0BuaIagI/AAAAAAAACKY/-d6hzr5S-_Y/s72-c/94a36eab4b1c0cedbef49eaab66ee8938a68b883.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3986319904217145311</id><published>2010-11-20T13:05:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T13:09:20.335-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aurélia Vasconcelos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOfyYxu3rmI/AAAAAAAACKQ/Z4EbYfMIZBQ/s1600/OgAAAFm8INoVrw5660t4iBOc5DLqs7V3Srd-66AiqkCu_pyUTovXWwCPpVOq9aHOkLZuHCpEp6kY_-4J7-8x4bOqaKAAm1T1UAfM4XGtno2NplN7XU4koP9bv33B.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541664373983391330" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOfyYxu3rmI/AAAAAAAACKQ/Z4EbYfMIZBQ/s400/OgAAAFm8INoVrw5660t4iBOc5DLqs7V3Srd-66AiqkCu_pyUTovXWwCPpVOq9aHOkLZuHCpEp6kY_-4J7-8x4bOqaKAAm1T1UAfM4XGtno2NplN7XU4koP9bv33B.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;"Eu me percebo cada vez mais diferente da maioria,&lt;br /&gt;cada vez mais destoante do todo,&lt;br /&gt;cada vez mais distante do óbvio,&lt;br /&gt;cada vez mais dona de mim..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aurélia Vasconcelos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-3986319904217145311?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3986319904217145311/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3986319904217145311' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3986319904217145311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3986319904217145311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/eu-me-percebo-cada-vez-mais-diferente.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOfyYxu3rmI/AAAAAAAACKQ/Z4EbYfMIZBQ/s72-c/OgAAAFm8INoVrw5660t4iBOc5DLqs7V3Srd-66AiqkCu_pyUTovXWwCPpVOq9aHOkLZuHCpEp6kY_-4J7-8x4bOqaKAAm1T1UAfM4XGtno2NplN7XU4koP9bv33B.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-666353766490010310</id><published>2010-11-15T18:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T18:04:06.264-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eduardo Baszczyn'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGf0hBl5ZI/AAAAAAAACKI/sbN3afIkit0/s1600/mar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 315px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539884741209482642" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGf0hBl5ZI/AAAAAAAACKI/sbN3afIkit0/s400/mar.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"a regra é simples, como nos livros de matemática da infância:&lt;br /&gt;você pertence ou não pertence.&lt;br /&gt;é ciência."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eduardo Baszczyn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://coisasdagaveta.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://coisasdagaveta.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; &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/6289510357646665971-666353766490010310?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/666353766490010310/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=666353766490010310' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/666353766490010310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/666353766490010310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/regra-e-simples-como-nos-livros-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGf0hBl5ZI/AAAAAAAACKI/sbN3afIkit0/s72-c/mar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-5134809515753920942</id><published>2010-11-15T17:45:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T17:47:57.542-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anaïs Nin'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGb-4TJyZI/AAAAAAAACKA/5hY5XEtBDIE/s1600/tumblr_ku8jq3MWxG1qzospvo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539880521209334162" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGb-4TJyZI/AAAAAAAACKA/5hY5XEtBDIE/s400/tumblr_ku8jq3MWxG1qzospvo1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;"O amor nunca morre de morte natural. Ele morre porque nós não sabemos como renovar a sua fonte. Morre de cegueira e dos erros e das traições . Morre de doença e das feridas; morre de exaustão, das devastações, da falta de brilho..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Anaïs Nin &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-5134809515753920942?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/5134809515753920942/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=5134809515753920942' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5134809515753920942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5134809515753920942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/o-amor-nunca-morre-de-morte-natural.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGb-4TJyZI/AAAAAAAACKA/5hY5XEtBDIE/s72-c/tumblr_ku8jq3MWxG1qzospvo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2465947041930263028</id><published>2010-11-15T17:11:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T17:18:54.518-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cazuza'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGVXGMQWNI/AAAAAAAACJg/YIokhUCdoyY/s1600/tumblr_kprgi2H2dy1qa1uj5o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 364px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539873240673966290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGVXGMQWNI/AAAAAAAACJg/YIokhUCdoyY/s400/tumblr_kprgi2H2dy1qa1uj5o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;"Porque o amor é feito bebida:&lt;br /&gt;tem que tomar a dose certa."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cazuza&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2465947041930263028?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2465947041930263028/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2465947041930263028' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2465947041930263028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2465947041930263028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/porque-o-amor-e-feito-bebida-tem-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGVXGMQWNI/AAAAAAAACJg/YIokhUCdoyY/s72-c/tumblr_kprgi2H2dy1qa1uj5o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-7622283612599505417</id><published>2010-11-15T17:07:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T17:10:04.490-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Camila Lordelo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGTKOWDNeI/AAAAAAAACJQ/cUqq6peaumA/s1600/0e0de1d1175641de52f6e405294242584e4d0529.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539870820500977122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGTKOWDNeI/AAAAAAAACJQ/cUqq6peaumA/s400/0e0de1d1175641de52f6e405294242584e4d0529.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;constatações necessárias&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;desamar é uma espécie de exorcismo.&lt;br /&gt;é preciso expulsar o outro de dentro de si.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;II.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;saber o valor de si mesmo é,&lt;br /&gt;sem dúvida, a mais eficiente&lt;br /&gt;das bolsas de gelo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;III.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;há felizes coincidências nessa vida. uma&lt;br /&gt;delas: um mundo de possibilidades lá fora&lt;br /&gt;e um mundo de amor aqui dentro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não há como negar a dor.&lt;br /&gt;mas acreditar é preciso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e eu não desisto. prossigo, sorrio e tatuo em mim:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me diz se tem coisa melhor do que crer&lt;br /&gt;me diz se tem coisa melhor que inventar&lt;br /&gt;e viver&lt;br /&gt;a verdade que a gente quiser&lt;br /&gt;o palpite que a gente chutar&lt;br /&gt;ser rascunho em papel manteiga&lt;br /&gt;se derreter&lt;br /&gt;se transformar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CAMILA LORDELO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.semaspas.blogger.com.br/"&gt;http://www.semaspas.blogger.com.br/&lt;/a&gt;&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/6289510357646665971-7622283612599505417?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/7622283612599505417/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=7622283612599505417' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7622283612599505417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7622283612599505417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/constatacoes-necessarias-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TOGTKOWDNeI/AAAAAAAACJQ/cUqq6peaumA/s72-c/0e0de1d1175641de52f6e405294242584e4d0529.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-5147521970053879605</id><published>2010-11-13T15:50:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T15:56:57.622-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Janete Andrade'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TN7eXP7ljRI/AAAAAAAACJA/F-X0MjhU64A/s1600/ilus%25C3%25A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539109082707102994" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TN7eXP7ljRI/AAAAAAAACJA/F-X0MjhU64A/s400/ilus%25C3%25A3o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Aprendera que para estampar risos, antes era necessário nublar-se com as lágrimas. Que para enfeitar o olhar com estrelas faiscantes, antes era necessário adorná-lo com cinza. Que para pincelar alegria, antes era necessário colorir-se com nuances de tristeza.&lt;br /&gt;Aprendera que para admirar o arco-íris, antes era necessário banhar-se no frio da chuva graúda. Que para iluminar-se com um Sol imponente, antes era necessário caminhar por entre a escuridão taciturna. Que para colher flores, antes era necessário ferir-se com os espinhos.&lt;br /&gt;Aprendera que para esticar horizontes, antes era necessário passear por estradas amiúde. Que para desejar o céu azul, antes era necessário aceitar o azul adormecido em esmorecimento. Que para enxergar a beleza que costura o cotidiano, antes era necessário garimpar o belo no singelo.&lt;br /&gt;Aprendera que para conquistar a glória de uma vitória, antes era necessário conhecer o fracasso das derrotas. Que para realizar sonhos, antes era necessário encontrar-se com a realidade. Que para erguer-se, antes era necessário arrastar consigo tropeços.&lt;br /&gt;Aprendera que para continuar aprendendo, antes era necessário querer além, sem medo do mais...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Janete Andrade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://baile-de-palavras.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://baile-de-palavras.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-5147521970053879605?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/5147521970053879605/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=5147521970053879605' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5147521970053879605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5147521970053879605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/aprendera-que-para-estampar-risos-antes.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TN7eXP7ljRI/AAAAAAAACJA/F-X0MjhU64A/s72-c/ilus%25C3%25A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3014183219665234562</id><published>2010-11-12T20:00:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T20:03:56.146-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Be Lins'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TN3HU1QahZI/AAAAAAAACIw/m3z-SBN-2nY/s1600/bunda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538802277442815378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TN3HU1QahZI/AAAAAAAACIw/m3z-SBN-2nY/s400/bunda.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DESPUDORADAMENTE,&lt;br /&gt;declaro minha vontade da noite:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_ queria, muito lentamente,&lt;br /&gt;tirar minha roupa toda, só pra ele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[E adormecer, exausta, só pela manhã]"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Be Lins&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://enobalancodashoras.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://enobalancodashoras.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-3014183219665234562?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3014183219665234562/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3014183219665234562' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3014183219665234562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3014183219665234562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/despudoradamente-declaro-minha-vontade.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TN3HU1QahZI/AAAAAAAACIw/m3z-SBN-2nY/s72-c/bunda.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-752107388678110040</id><published>2010-11-07T21:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T21:50:19.209-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Renata Carneiro'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TNdIyZo_HnI/AAAAAAAACIo/8nAasx6pqQE/s1600/cores.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 274px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536974297588768370" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TNdIyZo_HnI/AAAAAAAACIo/8nAasx6pqQE/s400/cores.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;"daquilo tudo o que mais gostava&lt;br /&gt;era a certeza incerta da delícia do próximo instante,&lt;br /&gt;a cada instante."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Renata Carneiro&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://cantodedetalhes.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://cantodedetalhes.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&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/6289510357646665971-752107388678110040?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/752107388678110040/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=752107388678110040' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/752107388678110040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/752107388678110040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/daquilo-tudo-o-que-mais-gostava-era.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TNdIyZo_HnI/AAAAAAAACIo/8nAasx6pqQE/s72-c/cores.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2842017748517765923</id><published>2010-11-07T21:20:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T21:24:28.556-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sabrina Davanzo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TNdCwgCqIkI/AAAAAAAACIg/QsDCBQ5DpfY/s1600/3623644940_60fe90efbc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536967667877552706" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TNdCwgCqIkI/AAAAAAAACIg/QsDCBQ5DpfY/s400/3623644940_60fe90efbc.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;"Ilusão &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Fita de tecido transparente que envolve os olhos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;e impede que a realidade seja vista."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sabrina Davanzo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://inversomeu.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://inversomeu.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&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/6289510357646665971-2842017748517765923?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2842017748517765923/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2842017748517765923' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2842017748517765923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2842017748517765923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/ilusao-fita-de-tecido-transparente-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TNdCwgCqIkI/AAAAAAAACIg/QsDCBQ5DpfY/s72-c/3623644940_60fe90efbc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-5164342794882645505</id><published>2010-11-07T20:52:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T21:00:18.893-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Roberta Blá'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TNc9QI8kPbI/AAAAAAAACIY/GHC2KjqocLY/s1600/83aaa8377558a1f33faf48e5c3292e0e97e2bd34.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536961614364032434" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TNc9QI8kPbI/AAAAAAAACIY/GHC2KjqocLY/s400/83aaa8377558a1f33faf48e5c3292e0e97e2bd34.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eu sempre fui inconstante. Sim, confesso que o meu gênio não é dos mais fáceis de se lidar. Vou da doçura à ácidez de um limão. Sou movida pelo tempo, pelas pessoas, pelo ambiente, por um sorriso. Sempre caminhei de mãos dadas com imperfeição. Eu nunca me adequei à paisagem. Talvez eu seja o cacto em um orquidário. Ou um beija-flor no deserto. Àlias, eu realmente não faço questão de me definir. Definição traz consigo o seu irmão definitivo. E esse, nunca foi uma boa companhia. Bom mesmo é sair pra passear com a mudança. Como uma boa amiga ela sempre está ao nosso lado. No nosso rosto, nas nossas relações, nos nossos sentimentos, na nossa vida. Respirar é tão inevitável quanto mudar. E ambos nos dão a opurtunidade de algo maravilhoso: VIVER."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Roberta Blá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://garotaflorbla.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://garotaflorbla.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-5164342794882645505?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/5164342794882645505/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=5164342794882645505' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5164342794882645505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5164342794882645505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/11/eu-sempre-fui-inconstante.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TNc9QI8kPbI/AAAAAAAACIY/GHC2KjqocLY/s72-c/83aaa8377558a1f33faf48e5c3292e0e97e2bd34.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6784281638703759802</id><published>2010-10-25T22:48:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T22:50:05.940-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fabrício Carpinejar'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMYziQJl_rI/AAAAAAAACIA/2uMI9gjWOiM/s1600/tumblr_l4aca3MnE41qbugzy_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532165855815007922" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMYziQJl_rI/AAAAAAAACIA/2uMI9gjWOiM/s400/tumblr_l4aca3MnE41qbugzy_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Vivas as cores dentro dela. Porque ela aprendeu a passear sobre o relógio do tempo. Daí, passou a cultivar hortênsias com jeito. A ter mais samba e saculejo na ponta dos pés. Em cima dos medos, ela borda uma estrela azul. E dos amuletos ela não se desfaz. Tem um tercinho bento que carrega junto ao peito. Porque ela tem fome de fé, mais que qualquer outra coisa. Se alimenta de tudo quanto é palavra boa. E chacoalha as retinas logo depois do café da manhã. P'ras imagens ruins sairem de dentro delas. Depois, carrega no alforje semente de ipê roxo. Girassol ela planta aos montes. E joga as sementes ao vento. E não esquece de levar a agulha, com as linhas coloridas de seda.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ela dança com a música de dentro'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fabrício Carpinejar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.carpinejar.com.br/"&gt;http://www.carpinejar.com.br/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-6784281638703759802?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6784281638703759802/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6784281638703759802' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6784281638703759802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6784281638703759802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/10/vivas-as-cores-dentro-dela.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMYziQJl_rI/AAAAAAAACIA/2uMI9gjWOiM/s72-c/tumblr_l4aca3MnE41qbugzy_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-8620725989199402748</id><published>2010-10-25T22:43:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T22:46:13.331-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Erica Maria'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMYyhQNufUI/AAAAAAAACH4/48uUvEt1JQs/s1600/31657630.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 315px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532164739140844866" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMYyhQNufUI/AAAAAAAACH4/48uUvEt1JQs/s400/31657630.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;"Vestia-se de menina quando deveria vestir-se de mulher,vestia-se de mulher quando deveria vestir-se de menina.&lt;br /&gt;Não era como as outras.&lt;br /&gt;Para cada hora do dia, olhos diferentes, brilhos diferentes, sensações diferentes.&lt;br /&gt;Dessa doce mistura , renascia todas as manhãs.&lt;br /&gt;Sabia apenas que precisava colher emoções e registrá-las no papel. Escrevia um diário.&lt;br /&gt;Diário dos anos, das pessoas, das coisas que as pessoas faziam, sentiam, das coisas que as pessoas vazias não puderam sentir.&lt;br /&gt;Ela não era vazia. Sentia com a intensidade do mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Era mulher e menina, escolhia o que queria ser.&lt;br /&gt;Nessa doce mistura, residia seu encanto."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Erica Maria&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://confessandoeescrevinhando.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;http://confessandoeescrevinhando.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&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/6289510357646665971-8620725989199402748?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/8620725989199402748/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=8620725989199402748' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8620725989199402748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8620725989199402748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/10/vestia-se-de-menina-quando-deveria.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMYyhQNufUI/AAAAAAAACH4/48uUvEt1JQs/s72-c/31657630.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6686294513681196858</id><published>2010-10-24T02:10:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T02:14:54.133-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carolina Salcides'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMPAZ0MauSI/AAAAAAAACHw/CUwW7LpFmT8/s1600/2598451856_3df848b0ba_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531476317081090338" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMPAZ0MauSI/AAAAAAAACHw/CUwW7LpFmT8/s400/2598451856_3df848b0ba_b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Podem podar meu caule, minhas folhas,&lt;br /&gt;frutos e flores;&lt;br /&gt;Mas não podem arrancar minha raiz!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Carolina Salcides&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.carolinasalcides.com.br/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;http://www.carolinasalcides.com.br/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-6686294513681196858?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6686294513681196858/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6686294513681196858' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6686294513681196858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6686294513681196858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/10/podem-podar-meu-caule-minhas-folhas.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMPAZ0MauSI/AAAAAAAACHw/CUwW7LpFmT8/s72-c/2598451856_3df848b0ba_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-725771067507450906</id><published>2010-10-24T02:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T02:02:58.217-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oswaldo Montenegro'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMO9ygqNOGI/AAAAAAAACHo/jwOJ0L5za8Y/s1600/ssdscf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531473442799171682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMO9ygqNOGI/AAAAAAAACHo/jwOJ0L5za8Y/s400/ssdscf.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♫ Eu conheço o medo de ir embora&lt;br /&gt;Não saber o que fazer com a mão&lt;br /&gt;Gritar pro mundo e saber&lt;br /&gt;Que o mundo não presta atenção&lt;br /&gt;Eu conheço o medo de ir embora&lt;br /&gt;Embora não pareça, a dor vai passar&lt;br /&gt;Lembra se puder&lt;br /&gt;Se não der, esqueça&lt;br /&gt;De algum jeito vai passar&lt;br /&gt;O sol já nasceu na estrada nova&lt;br /&gt;E mesmo que eu impeça, ele vai brilhar&lt;br /&gt;Lembra se puder&lt;br /&gt;Se não der esqueça&lt;br /&gt;De algum jeito vai passar&lt;br /&gt;Eu conheço o medo de ir embora&lt;br /&gt;O futuro agarra a sua mão&lt;br /&gt;Será que é o trem que passou&lt;br /&gt;Ou passou quem fica na estação?&lt;br /&gt;Eu conheço o medo de ir embora&lt;br /&gt;E nada que interessa se pode guardar&lt;br /&gt;Lembra se puder&lt;br /&gt;Se não der esqueça&lt;br /&gt;De algum jeito vai passar ♫&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oswaldo Montenegro &lt;/em&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/6289510357646665971-725771067507450906?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/725771067507450906/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=725771067507450906' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/725771067507450906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/725771067507450906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/10/eu-conheco-o-medo-de-ir-embora-nao.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMO9ygqNOGI/AAAAAAAACHo/jwOJ0L5za8Y/s72-c/ssdscf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-259244683684578736</id><published>2010-10-24T01:54:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T02:03:38.044-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brena Braz'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMO8kfasAVI/AAAAAAAACHg/7HD18RVjzTs/s1600/c0a6fd060e9605684999a32c7eeeb8f177b6ca58.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 298px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531472102435848530" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMO8kfasAVI/AAAAAAAACHg/7HD18RVjzTs/s400/c0a6fd060e9605684999a32c7eeeb8f177b6ca58.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;"Ando nessa fase de lua-de-mel com a cama nova e comigo mesma. Curtindo minha própria companhia. Pintando as paredes do quarto. Jogando fora os lençóis velhos. Dando pros outros os relacionamentos antigos que eu não quero mais. Me reciclando. Amadurecendo. Tecendo meu casulo novo pra criar asas e virar borboleta. Passando por um processo de transformação pra crescer. E o melhor disso tudo? Esse é o tipo de casamento que dura pra sempre."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Brena Braz &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ateondevai.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;http://www.ateondevai.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-259244683684578736?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/259244683684578736/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=259244683684578736' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/259244683684578736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/259244683684578736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/10/ando-nessa-fase-de-lua-de-mel-com-cama.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMO8kfasAVI/AAAAAAAACHg/7HD18RVjzTs/s72-c/c0a6fd060e9605684999a32c7eeeb8f177b6ca58.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1292133323735464624</id><published>2010-10-24T01:50:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T02:05:19.064-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vander Lee'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMO7UgmMbNI/AAAAAAAACHY/4xJLhUPPKt0/s1600/1237305090780_f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531470728363011282" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMO7UgmMbNI/AAAAAAAACHY/4xJLhUPPKt0/s400/1237305090780_f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;"Tô relendo minha lida, minha alma, meus amores&lt;br /&gt;tô revendo minha vida, minha luta, meus valores&lt;br /&gt;refazendo minhas forças, minha fonte, meus favores&lt;br /&gt;tô regando minhas folhas, minhas faces, minhas flores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tô limpando minha casa, minha cama, meu quartinho&lt;br /&gt;tô soprando minha brasa, minha brisa, meu anjinho&lt;br /&gt;tô bebendo minhas culpas, meu veneno, meu vinho&lt;br /&gt;escrevendo minhas cartas, meu começo, meu caminho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;estou podando meu jardim&lt;br /&gt;estou cuidando bem de mim"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vander Lee&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-1292133323735464624?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1292133323735464624/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1292133323735464624' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1292133323735464624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1292133323735464624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/10/to-relendo-minha-lida-minha-alma-meus.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TMO7UgmMbNI/AAAAAAAACHY/4xJLhUPPKt0/s72-c/1237305090780_f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-8502450978427360413</id><published>2010-10-17T01:52:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T01:54:10.774-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Caio Fernando'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TLqBJM6mOcI/AAAAAAAACHA/LqVaJ-RxUYs/s1600/b201398144_large.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528873487636511170" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TLqBJM6mOcI/AAAAAAAACHA/LqVaJ-RxUYs/s400/b201398144_large.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"E se você vem, fica tudo maior, mais amplo,&lt;br /&gt;sei lá mas é como se eu existisse dum jeito mais completo,&lt;br /&gt;compreende?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caio Fernando&lt;/em&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/6289510357646665971-8502450978427360413?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/8502450978427360413/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=8502450978427360413' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8502450978427360413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8502450978427360413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/10/e-se-voce-vem-fica-tudo-maior-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TLqBJM6mOcI/AAAAAAAACHA/LqVaJ-RxUYs/s72-c/b201398144_large.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6542038202497186859</id><published>2010-10-15T17:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T18:00:17.240-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clarice Lispector'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TLjOvU1aOpI/AAAAAAAACGw/LYTGriNAlLo/s1600/3435.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528395855039183506" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TLjOvU1aOpI/AAAAAAAACGw/LYTGriNAlLo/s400/3435.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;"A prova de que estou recuperando a saúde mental, é que estou cada minuto mais permissiva: eu me permito mais liberdade e mais experiências.&lt;br /&gt;E aceito o acaso. Anseio pelo que ainda não experimentei. Maior espaço psíquico.&lt;br /&gt;Estou felizmente mais doida."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Clarice Lispector&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-6542038202497186859?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6542038202497186859/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6542038202497186859' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6542038202497186859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6542038202497186859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/10/prova-de-que-estou-recuperando-saude.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TLjOvU1aOpI/AAAAAAAACGw/LYTGriNAlLo/s72-c/3435.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-8613241185849692588</id><published>2010-09-27T21:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T22:07:22.819-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Edson'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TKFMeb6PxBI/AAAAAAAACGI/1TN07OqbNwQ/s1600/3261740c294de80e7cfe0a46dcfab0d4b86db6e9.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 282px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521778703904785426" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TKFMeb6PxBI/AAAAAAAACGI/1TN07OqbNwQ/s400/3261740c294de80e7cfe0a46dcfab0d4b86db6e9.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Amo um amor de saudades&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;daquelas que choram no peito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E quando perto só ardem por querer mais e mais sem saciedade que dê cabo ...&lt;br /&gt;Amor de vontade, amor de vontade que a presença nunca acabe.&lt;br /&gt;Amor que só sinto por você.&lt;br /&gt;Amor de te querer aqui comigo, em mim, somente para mim."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Edson&lt;/em&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/6289510357646665971-8613241185849692588?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/8613241185849692588/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=8613241185849692588' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8613241185849692588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8613241185849692588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/09/amo-um-amor-de-saudades-daquelas-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TKFMeb6PxBI/AAAAAAAACGI/1TN07OqbNwQ/s72-c/3261740c294de80e7cfe0a46dcfab0d4b86db6e9.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-8012892179343018318</id><published>2010-09-13T20:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T21:02:46.188-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nando Reis'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516568112532720370" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TI7JeGbCivI/AAAAAAAACFI/b4jHvO1ny0A/s400/35848412.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;“[...] Seus lábios ainda estão molhando&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os lábios meus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[...] Teu corpo ainda guarda meu prazer..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nando Reis &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-8012892179343018318?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/8012892179343018318/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=8012892179343018318' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8012892179343018318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8012892179343018318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TI7JeGbCivI/AAAAAAAACFI/b4jHvO1ny0A/s72-c/35848412.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6745350324474338932</id><published>2010-09-13T20:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T20:58:26.881-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jaya Magalhães'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TI7IMOIGFVI/AAAAAAAACFA/6jbD4IJ67Fk/s1600/tumblr_l8fodjlJBE1qaw2vzo1_500_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516566705851471186" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TI7IMOIGFVI/AAAAAAAACFA/6jbD4IJ67Fk/s400/tumblr_l8fodjlJBE1qaw2vzo1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;"Teu sorriso ecoa minhas horas.&lt;br /&gt;E dessa noite, farei um cobertor de sonhos.&lt;br /&gt;Trilha sonora de você..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jaya&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://liricass.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://liricass.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-6745350324474338932?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6745350324474338932/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6745350324474338932' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6745350324474338932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6745350324474338932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/09/teu-sorriso-ecoa-minhas-horas.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TI7IMOIGFVI/AAAAAAAACFA/6jbD4IJ67Fk/s72-c/tumblr_l8fodjlJBE1qaw2vzo1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6223086925904642898</id><published>2010-09-12T20:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T20:08:35.472-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maryama'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TI1qat3_g_I/AAAAAAAACE4/apYteO4BfzE/s1600/tumblr_l789ycsUs81qzvhmpo1_500_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516182125822313458" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TI1qat3_g_I/AAAAAAAACE4/apYteO4BfzE/s400/tumblr_l789ycsUs81qzvhmpo1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carinho&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;/em&gt; é quando a gente não encontra nenhuma palavra para expressar o que sente e fala com as mãos, colocando o afago em cada dedo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maryama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://meuceueseu.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://meuceueseu.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-6223086925904642898?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6223086925904642898/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6223086925904642898' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6223086925904642898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6223086925904642898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/09/carinho-e-quando-gente-nao-encontra.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TI1qat3_g_I/AAAAAAAACE4/apYteO4BfzE/s72-c/tumblr_l789ycsUs81qzvhmpo1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6650465835936481189</id><published>2010-09-06T14:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T14:18:10.636-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jaya Magalhães'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TIUviFuEE_I/AAAAAAAACEo/D1Xof8nMeJs/s1600/b212906142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513865581482480626" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TIUviFuEE_I/AAAAAAAACEo/D1Xof8nMeJs/s400/b212906142.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eu quero me aninhar no teu peito, baby. Quero que você me conte bobagenzinhas enquanto escuto tua respiração. Quero sentir teu coração bater, ouvir tua risada, segurar tua mão por mais tempo, te entregar mais que dois sorrisos. Mais que um ruído. Eu quero espalhar beijinhos no teu rosto e passear, confusa, em você.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero te ligar no meio da noite e ficar em silêncio até conseguir dormir outra vez. Quero que você me abrace. Que você sempre me abrace. Que caminhe ao meu lado segurando no bolso de trás das minhas calças. Quero saber a frequência com que pisca os olhos e decorar o que te faz franzir o nariz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero papos desconexos, propostas decentes e outras tantas avessas. Quero entrar no primeiro ônibus disponível e passar um dia inteiro num lugar onde sejamos estranhos. Quero te puxar pelos braços e que você recue para me pirraçar enquanto vai pintando poesia nos dentes. Quero que teu cruzar de pernas me inspire um texto e que você faça um carinho bom em minha nuca, me abraçando por trás enquanto me observa sentada ao computador.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero que você me veja chorando ao cortar cebolas e sempre cante a música de Caetano, só para me ouvir te chamar de previsível e debocharmos juntos das mesmices que são só nossas. Quero que não me diga que sou ciumenta e não se importe com minhas melancolias mensais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero que a vodka tempere nossas brigas bobas, e que deitemos exaustos no colchão ali, no chão da sala, enquanto a vida corre do lado de fora da casa. Quero ver você dar risada da minha cara ao desistir de calcular o troco e não se importe em ir ao cinema nos horários mais improváveis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero que você se arrisque na cozinha só para me ouvir reclamar depois. Quero nossos beijos cítricos e tua língua tingida com o vermelho do que vai sempre arder em nós. Quero aquelas noites com a luz fraca, tua arte exata e minha busca imperfeita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero que você aumente o som quando começar a tocar uma música que eu goste. Quero te telefonar ao me deparar com algo que se pareça contigo. Quero te ver fechar o jeans, te puxar de volta para a cama, te fazer vacilar, burlar resistências.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero pizza gelada enquanto te mostro meus filmes preferidos. Quero te fotografar até você arrancar a câmera das minhas mãos e fazer o mesmo comigo. Quero me rasgar aos pouquinhos para você, só para você. Quero que folheie um caderno meu e reclame porque não escrevo na linha. Porque não escrevo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero entender quando dói e fazer parar de doer. Quero te adivinhar com meus lábios. Quero te projetar: você-filme. Quero espernear. Quero que você bagunce o quarto e te olharolharolhar com minhas pálpebras egoístas que te guardam só para mim. Quero todo esse medo de abri-las para não te deixar escapulir. Quero te achar ridículo enquanto escuto você cantar ao chuveiro. Quero colo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero que você entenda minha euforia após o teatro. Que não se espante com minha sensibilidade. Que não sofra com minha insensibilidade. Que não soframos tanto, apesar das crises, raivinhas, impaciência e muita falta de sentido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero você na minha parede verde. Quero pintar nossa parede. Te borrar a roupa. Tomar banho na chuva, rolar na areia da praia. Quero decifrar tua chegada pela maneira como toca o interfone. Te cantar músicas bregas, caminhar pela praça.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não quero nada. Só preciso inventar uma palavra. Algo que te explique. E olhar para você mais um pouco, assim, sem querer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É uma ideia."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jaya Magalhães &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://liricass.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://liricass.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-6650465835936481189?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6650465835936481189/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6650465835936481189' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6650465835936481189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6650465835936481189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/09/eu-quero-me-aninhar-no-teu-peito-baby.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TIUviFuEE_I/AAAAAAAACEo/D1Xof8nMeJs/s72-c/b212906142.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3640122384255007223</id><published>2010-08-07T13:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T13:30:39.939-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Renata Fagundes'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TF2XB77eFYI/AAAAAAAACEQ/KlcvLjQgJxg/s1600/c.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 360px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502720379239404930" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TF2XB77eFYI/AAAAAAAACEQ/KlcvLjQgJxg/s400/c.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;"Em minha busca pela felicidade, contabilizando erros e acertos, idealizações e realidade, aprendi que o homem ideal existe, que opostos se atraem por um certo tempo, pois quando as diferenças são gritantes o relacionamento não sobrevive diante das dificuldades que aparecem.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje, jamais me apaixonaria por um homem que só fale de si mesmo, dos seus problemas, prefiro aquele que saiba me ouvir sem pressa e não menospreze inclusive minha TPM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não acredito mais em homens cujas palavras contrastam com seus atos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Afastei da minha vida o homem que não constrói junto, não planeja junto, não divide, não sabe expressar seus sentimentos ou aquele que não seja capaz de reconhecer minhas qualidades morais. Pra que eu iria querer um homem que não sabe admirar minha verdadeira beleza - a interior?&lt;br /&gt;Aprendi a fugir de homens enfermos espiritual e emocionalmente, são como um câncer, pode matar tudo que há de melhor em mim.&lt;br /&gt;Já me deixei levar pela superficialidade, poder aquisitivo, classe social, me deixando cegar quando a realidade me oferecia sinceridade e integridade, isso me rendeu cicatrizes profundas.&lt;br /&gt;O homem que reconheço como grande não se esconde atrás de uma cortina de fumaça, é o que abre seu coração inteiramente, admira uma mulher por seus alicerces morais e grandeza interior, é aquele que não mente, embora as vezes perca por falar a verdade e sobretudo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;um grande homem é o que sabe chorar sua dor sem fugir dela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Confesso que encontrei esse homem quando achei que havia chegado no fim da estrada, sozinha e frustrada. Não posso dizer que ele não me faça chorar (de saudade talvez?) mas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sabe me roubar sorrisos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sorrisos por tudo que planejamos juntos, por tudo que aprendemos a superar, por cada alegria que repartimos, cada centavo que aplicamos em nossos sonhos, sonhos comuns, projetos de vida.&lt;br /&gt;Esse meu grande homem, não é grande porque é rico, o mais bonito, vive rodeado de mulheres, porque não é isso que ocorre. Ele é grande pelo que nos tornamos quando estamos juntos, porque reconhece que grandes homens vivem acompanhados de grandes mulheres e que &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;nada nem ninguém pode nos quebrar, poderá nos vencer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Renata Fagundes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://ctricocintilante.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;http://ctricocintilante.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-3640122384255007223?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3640122384255007223/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3640122384255007223' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3640122384255007223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3640122384255007223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/08/em-minha-busca-pela-felicidade.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TF2XB77eFYI/AAAAAAAACEQ/KlcvLjQgJxg/s72-c/c.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3911786192606849225</id><published>2010-07-13T16:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T16:54:49.596-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='(Cris...)'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDzSIhU-FAI/AAAAAAAACDw/WwRC6HgCBus/s1600/separados.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 226px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493496689312273410" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDzSIhU-FAI/AAAAAAAACDw/WwRC6HgCBus/s400/separados.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;"Estranho é não saber te dizer dessa saudade, daquilo que mais me faz falta em você. Esquisito é ter que te deixar partir pra poder voltar a me sentir. Insano é consentir que você me perca, te perder mil vezes pra quem sabe me encontrar nesse labirinto de nós dois...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loucura foi permitir que nos déssemos às costas por pura impaciência de desvendarmos os caminhos..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Cris...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://precisotantoaproveitarvoce.zip.net/"&gt;http://precisotantoaproveitarvoce.zip.net/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-3911786192606849225?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3911786192606849225/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3911786192606849225' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3911786192606849225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3911786192606849225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/07/estranho-e-nao-saber-te-dizer-dessa.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDzSIhU-FAI/AAAAAAAACDw/WwRC6HgCBus/s72-c/separados.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1184376875349570503</id><published>2010-07-10T16:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T17:01:34.837-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maya'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDje45i7d5I/AAAAAAAACDo/PagziHhRuAk/s1600/4217427271px5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 324px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492384814679685010" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDje45i7d5I/AAAAAAAACDo/PagziHhRuAk/s400/4217427271px5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vai ver ela gostava tanto dele, que disfarçar os devaneios do gostar fosse maior prova de sentimento que sair por aí gritando incontinuidades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vai ver..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maya&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://umbiguismos.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;http://umbiguismos.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&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/6289510357646665971-1184376875349570503?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1184376875349570503/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1184376875349570503' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1184376875349570503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1184376875349570503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDje45i7d5I/AAAAAAAACDo/PagziHhRuAk/s72-c/4217427271px5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-7436182939997854309</id><published>2010-07-10T16:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T16:17:19.468-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maria Rita'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDjU9tjzoFI/AAAAAAAACDg/6Y1xki43GKA/s1600/tattoo,body,dandelion,flickr,people,photography-5e7c7df451421e4f5d555528fc38f472_h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 254px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492373902245208146" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDjU9tjzoFI/AAAAAAAACDg/6Y1xki43GKA/s400/tattoo,body,dandelion,flickr,people,photography-5e7c7df451421e4f5d555528fc38f472_h.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;"Por vezes não parece, mas gosto de pessoas doces e sinceras. Não tão sinceras, elas podem contar mentiras boas e bobas... isso eu não ligo. Mas, por Deus! Quero ser mais leve. Mais doce. Mais tranquila. Quero ter coragem e sorte, quero não me contrariar tanto comigo mesma. Oh, há listas e listas do que eu queria ser e não sou; do que eu deveria.&lt;br /&gt;Eu surto. Surto mesmo e muito. Quando estou brava, eu falo na cara (ninguém precisa adivinhar). Mas, não fico irritada com facilidade. Haha, pode rir da frase anterior.. Mas não é ironia e nem piada. Fico cansada, puta, entediada; mas irritada de sair berrando e estapeando? Isso raramente.&lt;br /&gt;Fico na minha e pronto. Não mexo com as pessoas à torto e direito. Mas se quiser me ver irritada é ficar me enchendo, me sufocando. Vamos combinar? Eu não cuido da sua vida, portanto não cuide da minha, oras!&lt;br /&gt;Tenho muito mais de Macabéa do que aparento. Tenho menos de Luna Lovegood do que pensam. Ou talvez sou o misto das duas, sei lá eu.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho mais cafeína no sangue do que qualquer coisa, tenho inúmeras frases misturadas no cérebro. Sou lotada de sentimentos, e mesmo assim sou vazia vazia vazia. Paradoxo.&lt;br /&gt;Inquieta e fala muito. Quando resolvo ficar quieta, é silêncio mortal da minha parte (e isso acontece muitas vezes em meio de diálogos. Quero me calar e pronto). E não tem motivo pra intensidade de cada coisa, eu simplesmente não me meço. Sou feita de extremos.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho a imensa impressão que aparento seriedade e chatisse. Mas sei lá, não me acho simpática, me acho educada. Se chegarem mais perto perceberão que não me importo para opinião alheia, aceito brincadeiras de boa e não sou nada séria (nadinha!).&lt;br /&gt;Só não me venha com preconceito e ignorancia, isso não! Quer ver conseguirem me deixar puta de verdade, sou eu ouvir pessoinha falando merda sem saber, ver gentinha com pré- conceitos inflexiveis. Enfim.&lt;br /&gt;Mas, como ia dizendo... Gosto mesmo de pessoas doces e situações claras, igual Caio. E, bom, eu realmente só queria ser menos tensa, menos densa. Só leveza, não sei se é pedir muito."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maria Rita&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://canseidevoces.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://canseidevoces.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-7436182939997854309?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/7436182939997854309/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=7436182939997854309' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7436182939997854309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7436182939997854309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/07/por-vezes-nao-parece-mas-gosto-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDjU9tjzoFI/AAAAAAAACDg/6Y1xki43GKA/s72-c/tattoo,body,dandelion,flickr,people,photography-5e7c7df451421e4f5d555528fc38f472_h.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2997351092867557252</id><published>2010-07-10T15:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T16:01:01.317-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maria Fernanda'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDjQr3U3RcI/AAAAAAAACDQ/08AbcEsXDA4/s1600/dream_on_by_soulshivers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492369197582730690" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDjQr3U3RcI/AAAAAAAACDQ/08AbcEsXDA4/s400/dream_on_by_soulshivers.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;"Lembrei de você insistente e levei um susto grande ao deparar com teu rosto na minha mente. Havia muito tempo que não me dava conta de ti, que teu nome não enchia de chuva meus olhos castanhos e a saudade não queimava dentro do peito. Hoje faz frio, então não ardeu tanto. Deixei que o ar gelado mordiscasse minhas bochechas, corando-as, e congelasse as poucas lágrimas que teimavam cair, em vão. Não deu tempo. O vento era brisa certa, sempre contra minha direção, não importando qual direção eu tomasse. Um sopro frio, pra espantar a chuva que há muito não vinha. E eu te peço, por favor, me deixe chover! Me soa tão natural, tão calmante. Uma tempestade mansa em meu rosto e todo o riso de volta. É que a saudade é demais cá dentro e quanto maior a pressão do peito, maior a vontade de transbordar. Necessário. Coisa pouca, meu bem. Gotas de orvalho. E passa."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maria Fernanda&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bonequinhadeseda.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://bonequinhadeseda.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2997351092867557252?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2997351092867557252/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2997351092867557252' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2997351092867557252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2997351092867557252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/07/lembrei-de-voce-insistente-e-levei-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDjQr3U3RcI/AAAAAAAACDQ/08AbcEsXDA4/s72-c/dream_on_by_soulshivers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1852033407162690665</id><published>2010-07-10T15:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T15:47:26.051-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aline Romero'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDjNzrhaDWI/AAAAAAAACDI/s0Ba__UbCZI/s1600/bookpage-10_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492366033318186338" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDjNzrhaDWI/AAAAAAAACDI/s0Ba__UbCZI/s400/bookpage-10_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"- O que você quer de mim, meu anjo? - ele sorri, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;abraça mais forte no meio do riso. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Brinca: - Você quer o mundo? Eu te dou!&lt;br /&gt;"Eu só quero que você me ame, meu bem", &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ela pensa, mas não diz. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Porque ela sabe que, se disser, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ele vai dizer que a ama. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E ela não quer que ele diga. Quer que ame, e só."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aline Romero&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://notasnoturnas.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://notasnoturnas.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-1852033407162690665?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1852033407162690665/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1852033407162690665' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1852033407162690665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1852033407162690665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/07/o-que-voce-quer-de-mim-meu-anjo-ele.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TDjNzrhaDWI/AAAAAAAACDI/s0Ba__UbCZI/s72-c/bookpage-10_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1277167711947532680</id><published>2010-06-27T21:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T21:08:38.488-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Diana Valentina'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TCf1iIGIITI/AAAAAAAACCw/hFsyLmKQ8Q8/s1600/2933211463_eced4371b2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 262px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487624637611778354" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TCf1iIGIITI/AAAAAAAACCw/hFsyLmKQ8Q8/s400/2933211463_eced4371b2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;"é tão bom quando a gente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt; desengasga o amor que tem no peito.&lt;br /&gt;o mundo fica mais leve. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;aquele peso das obrigações vai embora&lt;br /&gt;quando o telefone toca só pra lembrar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;que tem alguém pensando em você.&lt;br /&gt;(ainda não sei se tem sensação melhor no mundo)&lt;br /&gt;eu não quero as asas que a vida me deu,&lt;br /&gt;porque quero ficar por muito tempo no teu abraço."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Diana Valentina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://aoptimista.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://aoptimista.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&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/6289510357646665971-1277167711947532680?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1277167711947532680/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1277167711947532680' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1277167711947532680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1277167711947532680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/e-tao-bom-quando-gente-desengasga-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TCf1iIGIITI/AAAAAAAACCw/hFsyLmKQ8Q8/s72-c/2933211463_eced4371b2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-5764155847389319053</id><published>2010-06-27T20:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T20:52:22.488-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Renata Carneiro'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TCfxyq6RlJI/AAAAAAAACCo/lneuLDv3l6Q/s1600/flores,em,voce,people,beauty,fashion,jessica,klingelfuss,photography-b9ef14676e5924efb10bb522bcd763d9_h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487620523788702866" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TCfxyq6RlJI/AAAAAAAACCo/lneuLDv3l6Q/s400/flores,em,voce,people,beauty,fashion,jessica,klingelfuss,photography-b9ef14676e5924efb10bb522bcd763d9_h.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;"delicada, carrega uma vontade enorme nas mãos, e todos os sentimentos do mundo. determinação e curiosidade nunca faltam, nem mesmo quando a preguiça insiste em ficar. leva o arco-íris em cada fio de cabelo e nos olhos, tudo o que cintilar. tem medo de reviravoltas muito bruscas, mas coragem suficiente para enfrentá-las. gosta de vermelho, roxo, cores, rimas, brisa fresca, sombra, música, violão, flores, arte, cinema, abraço, cheiros e tudo mais que provoca arrepios. procura sempre pela próxima poesia que a espera na esquina. e, quando encontra com si mesma, escreve. e como escreve. se entrega nas menores coisas, aprendeu que é assim que se descobre os pequenos prazeres. se preocupa um tanto com o futuro, mas não esquece que ele depende do agora. fica por demais feliz quando consegue levar alegria a alguém. cultiva jardins secretos e colhe bem-me-quer. algumas vezes, tem nuvens demais nos pés. gosta de descansar do chão. é muito mais chegadas que partidas, muito mais lua que sol. tem dias que amanhece urgências e inaugura noites. se equilibra na linha tênue, sem perder o compasso. leva uma certeza no bolso: guardar o tempo, ajuda a traçar o contorno da vida."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Renata Carneiro&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://cantodedetalhes.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;http://cantodedetalhes.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&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/6289510357646665971-5764155847389319053?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/5764155847389319053/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=5764155847389319053' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5764155847389319053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/5764155847389319053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/delicada-carrega-uma-vontade-enorme-nas.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TCfxyq6RlJI/AAAAAAAACCo/lneuLDv3l6Q/s72-c/flores,em,voce,people,beauty,fashion,jessica,klingelfuss,photography-b9ef14676e5924efb10bb522bcd763d9_h.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2994660782411434180</id><published>2010-06-27T20:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T20:33:38.260-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Camila Lordelo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TCftRmY6JaI/AAAAAAAACCg/9ABX1x5fjFA/s1600/yX6zGzbltinlr5157pzzI8j1o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 321px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487615557592819106" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TCftRmY6JaI/AAAAAAAACCg/9ABX1x5fjFA/s400/yX6zGzbltinlr5157pzzI8j1o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;"[...] Primeiro rascunho. Às vezes desisto, me apago e, mesmo sobre a sombra de traços e riscos antigos, me faço nova outra vez. Por fim me reviso, pra então me publicar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para me conhecer, me leia com os olhos. Para me entender, me leia com a alma. Mas para me ter, por poucos ou eternos momentos, baby, a leitura deve ser em braile. Sob toques leves, seguros e, se o destino asssim quiser, certeiros."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Camila Lordelo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.semaspas.blogger.com.br/"&gt;http://www.semaspas.blogger.com.br/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2994660782411434180?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2994660782411434180/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2994660782411434180' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2994660782411434180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2994660782411434180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post_27.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TCftRmY6JaI/AAAAAAAACCg/9ABX1x5fjFA/s72-c/yX6zGzbltinlr5157pzzI8j1o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3417755194519345692</id><published>2010-06-16T01:57:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T00:31:50.940-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jaya Magalhães'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBhoFwqdp-I/AAAAAAAACCI/uT-Bt-EvOSw/s1600/perfeita.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 318px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483246994495219682" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBhoFwqdp-I/AAAAAAAACCI/uT-Bt-EvOSw/s400/perfeita.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;''Eu declaro ser boba, moço. E ingênua. Forte, apesar da pose de quem se desmonta fácil. Apaixonada, talvez. Ridícula. Medrosa. Procrastinadora de atos urgentes, e também dos desimportantes. Sou uma saudade, e um banco de praça coberto por folhas secas de um outono que não é meu. Não tenho paciência para conversas tristes. Posar de vítima soa deprimente. E não entendo como meu rosto se desmancha numa seriedade obtusa assim, de repente, gerando interrogações de quem me cerca. Eles não entendem. Sabe, moço, não é todo dia que eu quero sorrir, não. E pensar que já houve uma época onde isso era o meu melhor, era o que fazia as pessoas pedirem por mim. Hoje não tem ninguém. A distância é algo estúpido, moço. Não falo nem de geografia, aqui. Falo de interposições criadas por conveniências minhas. Eu sou ostra, viu? E não sei permitir que no meu lado de dentro venha morar qualquer coisa que não seja pérola. Nem é pretensão, não. Pode ser comodismo. É que eu me acostumei a ter as melhores pessoas do mundo como parte de mim, e isso era o suficiente. Eu não dava importância para o novo, o desconhecido. Não sei se você entende, moço, mas dá um trabalho danado se reconhecer nos outros, querer pra si, driblar os defeitos, contar dos seus, todas essas coisas que surgem em primeiras relações. Eu queria que já viesse tudo pronto, moço. Queria. Aí eu era completa, então.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Declaro, também, que esse era é algo que nunca foi. É que eu sou sozinha, em qualquer canto. Sei lá, eu acho graça, você não? Sou dona de um sarcasmo estonteante, digo. As pessoas às vezes acham que estão acompanhadas no mundo, e se apegam a isso de uma maneira que me assusta. É que, moço, todo mundo vai embora um dia. Vai porque quer, vai porque Deus chama - não importa. E eu sempre tive muito medo disso, mas quase não penso. Outro dia mesmo eu quis casar, ter filhos, e ver como a vida ia. Hoje eu não quero mais. Amanhã, vou querer tudo de novo. E pra sempre. Odeio querer as coisas pra sempre, moço, você não? Tudo é tão efêmero por aqui. Tem horas que eu fico lembrando do que eu nunca soube. Você deve estar se perguntando se eu sou feliz, não é? Eu digo que não sei. Digo que sou. Num descuido ou em outro, acabo sendo. Ah, eu sou incoerente, também. Semana passada contei por aí que eu sou uma fraude. Sou tanta coisa, moço. E nada. Essa história de não poder olhar pro lado e encontrar uma gargalhada cúmplice, já não tem graça. E os fins de semana, moço, passam lentos como se fossem um filme ruim demorando pra terminar. Não pensa que eu tô só reclamando, não. É que hoje não entreguei sorriso, sabe? E agora que ele se mostra, vai despejando tudo o que esse céu nublado diz. Sou uma nuvem de chuva, agora.&lt;br /&gt;Declaro ainda, moço, que eu tenho sonhos. Eles escorrem em mim inteira. Mas acontece que sou uma insônia, e os dias viram duas noites. Tá faltando cor. Cinza é cor, moço? Acho bom eu ir embora, antes que tudo chova. Prometo novos sonhos. Um resgate dos que se perderam. Toma moço, esse sorriso. Coloca ele de enfeite no teu carrinho azul. Lembra que você foi responsável por mim, hoje, nesse entardecer. Lembra, moço, que meu sorrir é quem fala, porque eu não sei lidar com palavras, não.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Declaro por fim, moço, que eu vou ser feliz. Criança...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E fui.''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jaya Magalhães&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://liricass.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;http://liricass.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&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/6289510357646665971-3417755194519345692?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3417755194519345692/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3417755194519345692' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3417755194519345692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3417755194519345692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/eu-declaro-ser-boba-moco.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBhoFwqdp-I/AAAAAAAACCI/uT-Bt-EvOSw/s72-c/perfeita.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-8310259720401147244</id><published>2010-06-13T13:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T13:40:55.783-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Serena - Cris'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBUXrCepGlI/AAAAAAAACB4/EejVuc71ER4/s1600/3a.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482314149560654418" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBUXrCepGlI/AAAAAAAACB4/EejVuc71ER4/s400/3a.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;"Bom mesmo é cafuné de quem a gente gosta. É fazer samba bem no centro do tédio da gente. É arriscar um suspiro em noite estrelada. É sorrir por dentro pra dar energia. Bom mesmo é estar perto de quem a gente quer. É poder escolher a dedo quem entra pela porta da frente. É saber que do outro lado da linha vai ter sempre alguém te ouvindo. Bom mesmo é pular de alegria por uma coisa qualquer. É soltar as amarras que te prendiam aos pés do passado. É acolher com as mãos e sorrisos alguém que já te escureceu. É fazer brotar uma flor num canteiro vazio. Bom mesmo é ir sem ter pressa de chegar. É fazer amizade no caminho. É fazer crescer a esperança e manter o coração sereno."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Serena - Cris&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://blog-chao-de-estrelas.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://blog-chao-de-estrelas.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-8310259720401147244?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/8310259720401147244/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=8310259720401147244' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8310259720401147244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8310259720401147244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/bom-mesmo-e-cafune-de-quem-gente-gosta.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBUXrCepGlI/AAAAAAAACB4/EejVuc71ER4/s72-c/3a.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-7173089040829449210</id><published>2010-06-13T02:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T02:18:39.583-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fernanda Young'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBR3z1etSSI/AAAAAAAACBg/K3EGcNJC1YU/s1600/detox.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482138378829646114" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBR3z1etSSI/AAAAAAAACBg/K3EGcNJC1YU/s400/detox.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;"Sou cheia de manias. Tenho carências insolúveis. Sou teimosa. Hipocondríaca. Raivosa, quando sinto-me atacada. Não como cebola. Só ando no banco da frente dos carros. Mas não imponho a minha pessoa a ninguém. Não imploro afeto. Não sou indiscreta nas minhas relações. Tenho poucos amigos, porque acho mais inteligente ser seletivo a respeito daqueles que você escolhe para contar os seus segredos. Então, se sou chata, não incomodo ninguém que não queira ser incomodado. Chateio só aqueles que não me acham uma chata, por isso me querem ao seu lado. Acho sim, que, às vezes, dou trabalho. Mas é como ter um Rolls Royce: se você não quiser ter que pagar o preço da manutenção, mude para um Passat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fernanda Young&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-7173089040829449210?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/7173089040829449210/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=7173089040829449210' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7173089040829449210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7173089040829449210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/sou-cheia-de-manias.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBR3z1etSSI/AAAAAAAACBg/K3EGcNJC1YU/s72-c/detox.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1106870551606120589</id><published>2010-06-13T02:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T02:08:15.813-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pablo Neruda'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 280px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482135897094680066" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBR1jYS-7gI/AAAAAAAACBY/VYEzSZSGFAE/s400/o9zpxWTKFpuf4ruw8ui0ZN64o1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;“A pessoa certa é a que está ao seu lado nos momentos incertos.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pablo Neruda&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-1106870551606120589?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1106870551606120589/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1106870551606120589' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1106870551606120589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1106870551606120589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/pessoa-certa-e-que-esta-ao-seu-lado-nos.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBR1jYS-7gI/AAAAAAAACBY/VYEzSZSGFAE/s72-c/o9zpxWTKFpuf4ruw8ui0ZN64o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6343075118021255234</id><published>2010-06-13T01:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T02:01:54.263-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tati Bernardi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBRzxmILLyI/AAAAAAAACBQ/QUtVa8QDKT8/s1600/LuU3gcy7yqes3c0tgBjcEEDPo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482133942302355234" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBRzxmILLyI/AAAAAAAACBQ/QUtVa8QDKT8/s400/LuU3gcy7yqes3c0tgBjcEEDPo1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"(...) Me recordei rapidamente de todas as pessoas e coisas que perdi por ainda não estar preparada para elas, ou por ainda ter muita curiosidade de mundo e dificuldade em ser permanente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recordei de amigos e parentes distantes, aqueles que eu sempre deixo pra depois porque moram muito longe ou acabaram se tornando pessoas muito diferentes de mim, sempre penso “mês que vem faço contato com eles”. E se não tiver mês que vem?..." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tati Bernardi&lt;/em&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/6289510357646665971-6343075118021255234?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6343075118021255234/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6343075118021255234' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6343075118021255234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6343075118021255234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TBRzxmILLyI/AAAAAAAACBQ/QUtVa8QDKT8/s72-c/LuU3gcy7yqes3c0tgBjcEEDPo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1008031321934846341</id><published>2010-06-07T18:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T18:32:55.434-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Camila Meneghetti'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TA1zKqEoALI/AAAAAAAACBI/Yj0io_g_0_Q/s1600/Sapatos+de+alice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 269px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480162948509335730" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TA1zKqEoALI/AAAAAAAACBI/Yj0io_g_0_Q/s400/Sapatos+de+alice.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;"Sempre soube que seu país das maravilhas se encontrava dentro dela, por isso nunca se perguntou onde ele estaria, já que diariamente o reproduzia."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Camila Meneghetti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://camilameneghetti.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://camilameneghetti.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-1008031321934846341?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1008031321934846341/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1008031321934846341' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1008031321934846341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1008031321934846341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/sempre-soube-que-seu-pais-das.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TA1zKqEoALI/AAAAAAAACBI/Yj0io_g_0_Q/s72-c/Sapatos+de+alice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2765810048157736101</id><published>2010-06-07T18:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T18:04:44.048-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cris Guerra'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TA1sgRsJFPI/AAAAAAAACBA/sxLso7jo7rA/s1600/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480155623339922674" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TA1sgRsJFPI/AAAAAAAACBA/sxLso7jo7rA/s400/1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Felicidade é esse quase tudo que é tanto&lt;br /&gt;e que a gente acaba passando por cima&lt;br /&gt;como se fosse nada."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cris Guerra&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://amoreponto.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://amoreponto.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&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/6289510357646665971-2765810048157736101?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2765810048157736101/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2765810048157736101' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2765810048157736101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2765810048157736101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/felicidade-e-esse-quase-tudo-que-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TA1sgRsJFPI/AAAAAAAACBA/sxLso7jo7rA/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2642029165171410517</id><published>2010-06-04T12:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T12:59:03.547-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O Teatro Mágico'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TAkwmCbKBfI/AAAAAAAACAw/2-qrgN83Rx4/s1600/7RGgy4cxildgadgmfM5wepsko1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 285px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478963851716855282" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TAkwmCbKBfI/AAAAAAAACAw/2-qrgN83Rx4/s400/7RGgy4cxildgadgmfM5wepsko1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;"Eu não sei na verdade quem eu sou,&lt;br /&gt;Já tentei calcular o meu valor&lt;br /&gt;Mas sempre encontro sorriso e o meu paraíso é onde estou...&lt;br /&gt;Por que a gente é desse jeito&lt;br /&gt;Criando conceito pra tudo que restou?"&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O Teatro Mágico&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2642029165171410517?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2642029165171410517/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2642029165171410517' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2642029165171410517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2642029165171410517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/eu-nao-sei-na-verdade-quem-eu-sou-ja.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TAkwmCbKBfI/AAAAAAAACAw/2-qrgN83Rx4/s72-c/7RGgy4cxildgadgmfM5wepsko1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-4080361343322152075</id><published>2010-06-04T12:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T12:51:58.678-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Karla Thayse'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TAkuwD-v7xI/AAAAAAAACAo/PFbud_9q6cM/s1600/dor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 297px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478961824910012178" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TAkuwD-v7xI/AAAAAAAACAo/PFbud_9q6cM/s400/dor.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;"E depois de furar o dedo com a ponta de um espinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aprendeu a ser mais cuidadosa com as flores."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Karla Thayse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://petalasdeumafloremmim.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;http://petalasdeumafloremmim.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&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/6289510357646665971-4080361343322152075?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/4080361343322152075/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=4080361343322152075' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4080361343322152075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4080361343322152075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/e-depois-de-furar-o-dedo-com-ponta-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TAkuwD-v7xI/AAAAAAAACAo/PFbud_9q6cM/s72-c/dor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-4511856170154881318</id><published>2010-06-04T00:44:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T00:33:15.211-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clarice Lispector'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TAiF0-f5IiI/AAAAAAAACAg/mrdr3yqpKRI/s1600/florir.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478776091872666146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TAiF0-f5IiI/AAAAAAAACAg/mrdr3yqpKRI/s400/florir.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ela tem em si água e deserto,&lt;br /&gt;povoamento e ermo,&lt;br /&gt;fartura e carência,&lt;br /&gt;medo e desafio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tem em si a eloqüência e a absurda mudez,&lt;br /&gt;a surpresa e a antigüidade,&lt;br /&gt;o requinte e a rudeza."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Clarice Lispector&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-4511856170154881318?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/4511856170154881318/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=4511856170154881318' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4511856170154881318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4511856170154881318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/06/ela-tem-em-si-agua-e-deserto-povoamento.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TAiF0-f5IiI/AAAAAAAACAg/mrdr3yqpKRI/s72-c/florir.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1378886752623472732</id><published>2010-05-22T12:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T12:40:01.945-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clarice Lispector'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S_gIYNtRWKI/AAAAAAAAB_w/GgBvDSWPoUc/s1600/7RGgy4cxiqqk9qpgdMrgV7jso1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474134559158261922" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S_gIYNtRWKI/AAAAAAAAB_w/GgBvDSWPoUc/s400/7RGgy4cxiqqk9qpgdMrgV7jso1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mas nem sempre é necessário tornar-se forte.&lt;br /&gt;Temos que respirar nossas fraquezas."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Clarice Lispector&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&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/6289510357646665971-1378886752623472732?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1378886752623472732/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1378886752623472732' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1378886752623472732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1378886752623472732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/05/mas-nem-sempre-e-necessario-tornar-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S_gIYNtRWKI/AAAAAAAAB_w/GgBvDSWPoUc/s72-c/7RGgy4cxiqqk9qpgdMrgV7jso1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2028373219441160510</id><published>2010-05-14T01:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T01:50:32.264-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Be Lins'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S-zj_G2-igI/AAAAAAAAB_Q/HH3lYg3A3PQ/s1600/043622df4b4271f076606bb19e60f08d09303bea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470998320660777474" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S-zj_G2-igI/AAAAAAAAB_Q/HH3lYg3A3PQ/s400/043622df4b4271f076606bb19e60f08d09303bea.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Se o moço diz à moça que sente &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;uma vontade absurda de vê-la,&lt;br /&gt;e mais absurda ainda é a vontade &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;que ele sente de beijá-la,&lt;br /&gt;a moça deve considerar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;as vontades dele como meras vontades,&lt;br /&gt;ou o uso da palavra ABSURDA &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;denota uma igualmente absurda&lt;br /&gt;PAIXÃO?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Porquê ele é o segredo dela, e ela, é o segredo dele]"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Be Lins&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://umaestrelanamao.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://umaestrelanamao.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2028373219441160510?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2028373219441160510/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2028373219441160510' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2028373219441160510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2028373219441160510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/05/se-o-moco-diz-moca-que-sente-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S-zj_G2-igI/AAAAAAAAB_Q/HH3lYg3A3PQ/s72-c/043622df4b4271f076606bb19e60f08d09303bea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-7398876661047369801</id><published>2010-04-25T09:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T09:36:47.104-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tony'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S9RE5HiN4gI/AAAAAAAAB-w/2AGRZ-4uo0w/s1600/ATgAAADrkDKE4LIOALze0it-dgQ40BYER1JLoSOjc6NXHGZMnhU4wRKNxUuc4tEhr6R1j4cb-xwRCe_BEvJK3XB2hrssAJtU9VB1-n9xbhp90gY38krXfs7M_BuQ1w.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464067995973050882" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S9RE5HiN4gI/AAAAAAAAB-w/2AGRZ-4uo0w/s400/ATgAAADrkDKE4LIOALze0it-dgQ40BYER1JLoSOjc6NXHGZMnhU4wRKNxUuc4tEhr6R1j4cb-xwRCe_BEvJK3XB2hrssAJtU9VB1-n9xbhp90gY38krXfs7M_BuQ1w.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;CAMINHADA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vim de muito longe, de terras áridas...&lt;br /&gt;Em busca de horizontes.&lt;br /&gt;Como o besouro, sem poder, ousei voar...&lt;br /&gt;Em busca de altitudes.&lt;br /&gt;Naveguei, sem bússola, águas desconhecidas...&lt;br /&gt;Experimentando aventuras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vim de muito longe, de terras áridas...&lt;br /&gt;Em busca de meu caminho&lt;br /&gt;E minha identidade...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vivi etapas distintas ao longo do percurso.&lt;br /&gt;Fui casulo: preso dentro de mim mesmo,&lt;br /&gt;Fui lagarta: rastejei pelo chão,&lt;br /&gt;Fui borboleta: leve e colorida.&lt;br /&gt;Ciclo repetido, tantas e tantas vezes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amei muito e fui muito amado...&lt;br /&gt;Abandonei amores e por amores fui abandonado.&lt;br /&gt;Encontros e desencontros, acertos e desacertos.&lt;br /&gt;Experiências, de que não restaram&lt;br /&gt;Nem mágoas, nem rancores...&lt;br /&gt;As terras áridas, cada vez mais distantes...&lt;br /&gt;Como as lembranças:&lt;br /&gt;O pai morto tão cedo, quase não vi.&lt;br /&gt;A infância sofrida, quase não vivi.&lt;br /&gt;A adolescência vacilante, quase perdida.&lt;br /&gt;Responsabilidades precocemente assumidas.&lt;br /&gt;Questionamentos, desejos, angústias, conflitos,&lt;br /&gt;Vacilações, luta sem fim, descaminhos,&lt;br /&gt;Fracassos, vitórias, certezas??? ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vim de muito longe, de terras áridas...&lt;br /&gt;Anos e anos, sem fim, se passaram.&lt;br /&gt;Encontrei meu horizonte!&lt;br /&gt;Entrei em minha órbita!&lt;br /&gt;Achei a mim mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As buscas terminaram, as aventuras também...&lt;br /&gt;AGORA SOU EU MESMO,&lt;br /&gt;ÍNTEGRO E COMPLETO. PRONTO E ACABADO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ESTOU EM PAZ, ABENÇOADO POR DEUS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;TONY/MAGO&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://rastrosdeumandarilho.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://rastrosdeumandarilho.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-7398876661047369801?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/7398876661047369801/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=7398876661047369801' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7398876661047369801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7398876661047369801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/04/caminhada-vim-de-muito-longe-de-terras.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S9RE5HiN4gI/AAAAAAAAB-w/2AGRZ-4uo0w/s72-c/ATgAAADrkDKE4LIOALze0it-dgQ40BYER1JLoSOjc6NXHGZMnhU4wRKNxUuc4tEhr6R1j4cb-xwRCe_BEvJK3XB2hrssAJtU9VB1-n9xbhp90gY38krXfs7M_BuQ1w.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-267666235024058308</id><published>2010-04-05T19:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T00:35:38.760-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Renata Carneiro'/><title type='text'>das alegrias que começam a florir dentro da gente.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S7p0RpZ8qPI/AAAAAAAAB-A/LtmpqKiU7ck/s1600/p.txt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456801745034062066" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S7p0RpZ8qPI/AAAAAAAAB-A/LtmpqKiU7ck/s400/p.txt.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;"&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;se a esperança cria raízes,&lt;br /&gt;coração vira jardim."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Renata Carneiro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://cantodedetalhes.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;http://cantodedetalhes.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-267666235024058308?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/267666235024058308/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=267666235024058308' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/267666235024058308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/267666235024058308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/04/das-alegrias-que-comecam-florir-dentro.html' title='das alegrias que começam a florir dentro da gente.'/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S7p0RpZ8qPI/AAAAAAAAB-A/LtmpqKiU7ck/s72-c/p.txt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6383603125795402614</id><published>2010-03-19T15:14:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T00:37:28.912-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Erica Maria'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S6PN8Eim_DI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/RY4kG_WoJ-U/s1600-h/dress,shoes,woman,clothes,shoes,people,ladyheels-11c6ec1a8f5b792a7af1e833d9d9bbf3_h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450426405943180338" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S6PN8Eim_DI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/RY4kG_WoJ-U/s400/dress,shoes,woman,clothes,shoes,people,ladyheels-11c6ec1a8f5b792a7af1e833d9d9bbf3_h.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;"Não, eu não sou fácil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sou hábil em mentir.&lt;br /&gt;Não sei mentir o que me pulsa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não gosto de sentir complicado,&lt;br /&gt;não gosto de me vestir inocente,&lt;br /&gt;sou vermelho malícia, não fictícia,&lt;br /&gt;a porta da frente, não casa de fundos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não sou violável, poço de regras,&lt;br /&gt;exceção tolerável talvez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha verdade é na retina que guardo.&lt;br /&gt;Os meus sons são esses, é o universo que escuta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha música é me escrever.&lt;br /&gt;O que tateio é vento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E apenas pra lembrar:&lt;br /&gt;todas as minhas formas são mutáveis."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Erica Maria&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://confessandoeescrevinhando.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;http://confessandoeescrevinhando.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&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/6289510357646665971-6383603125795402614?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6383603125795402614/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6383603125795402614' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6383603125795402614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6383603125795402614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/03/nao-eu-nao-sou-facil.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S6PN8Eim_DI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/RY4kG_WoJ-U/s72-c/dress,shoes,woman,clothes,shoes,people,ladyheels-11c6ec1a8f5b792a7af1e833d9d9bbf3_h.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2805762619290741129</id><published>2010-02-27T19:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T19:41:39.213-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Denise Portes'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S4mtR8VUrtI/AAAAAAAAB8o/EqbDfrK7KlA/s1600-h/68_by_Sonorov.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443072148418899666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S4mtR8VUrtI/AAAAAAAAB8o/EqbDfrK7KlA/s400/68_by_Sonorov.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Na viagem da vida, os trilhos são o meu caminho, sou a louca- motiva. Os dias acontecem, sigo minhas intuições.Existem dias incríveis, parece que amanheceram somente pra você, presentes que você pediu no seu adormecer. A louca faz barulho, dobra curvas, olha paisagem que vai além do horizonte. Motiva, movida a pequenas emoções. Anoitece, a louca-motiva acredita, no sonho, na aventura da viagem. Enche o peito de esperança, fica atenta aos sinais, aos apitos, aos seus companheiros que entram, saem, permanecem ao seu lado, nos vagões. Vagões que vagam cheios de emoções, nesse caminho que ela trilha, nas escolhas que fez, lá vai à louca- motiva aprender mais uma vez."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Denise Portes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://odeliriodabruxa.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://odeliriodabruxa.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2805762619290741129?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2805762619290741129/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2805762619290741129' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2805762619290741129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2805762619290741129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/02/na-viagem-da-vida-os-trilhos-sao-o-meu.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/S4mtR8VUrtI/AAAAAAAAB8o/EqbDfrK7KlA/s72-c/68_by_Sonorov.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-483574651142554216</id><published>2010-01-02T15:46:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T20:07:37.457-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maryama'/><title type='text'>Da certeza</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sz-VK1ZN4XI/AAAAAAAAB6k/Ns4sranh4FU/s1600-h/3628017158_6b03cab382.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422216489741443442" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sz-VK1ZN4XI/AAAAAAAAB6k/Ns4sranh4FU/s400/3628017158_6b03cab382.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;"Já não havia mais nada no mundo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;o céu azul era o teto acima de suas cabeças. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;As lágrimas rolavam pelas bochechas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;aquele silêncio que vale mais que mil palavras os ensurdecia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Ele pegou a mão da garota, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;apertou com toda força que pode e disse por entre as lágrimas: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;- pra sempre! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Ela sentiu seu coração se apertar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;e parou de respirar por uns instantes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Enfim, tomou fôlego e disse num tom quase inaudível: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;- pra sempre! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Ambos sabem que, é assim que vai ser."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mary*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://meuceueseu.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;http://meuceueseu.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&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/6289510357646665971-483574651142554216?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/483574651142554216/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=483574651142554216' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/483574651142554216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/483574651142554216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2010/01/da-certeza.html' title='Da certeza'/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sz-VK1ZN4XI/AAAAAAAAB6k/Ns4sranh4FU/s72-c/3628017158_6b03cab382.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-8295102781882307194</id><published>2009-12-25T00:17:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T00:21:09.058-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Edson Marques'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SzQu7b1tdjI/AAAAAAAAB58/0OKAw-WGTAw/s1600-h/arvore-de-natal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419007850253743666" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SzQu7b1tdjI/AAAAAAAAB58/0OKAw-WGTAw/s400/arvore-de-natal.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"O presente de Natal que eu quero te dar&lt;br /&gt;não pode ser comprado:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não tem nas lojas, nos mercados,&lt;br /&gt;nas feirinhas, nos balcões...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é feito de plástico, não é eletrônico,&lt;br /&gt;nem precisa de manual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O presente de natal que eu quero te dar&lt;br /&gt;está dentro do teu próprio coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basta que você o desperte para a vida:&lt;br /&gt;É o amor pela liberdade absoluta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É a admiração extrema pela Arte de Viver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A defesa inabalável da ideia de justiça,&lt;br /&gt;de verdade e de prazer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A coragem deliciosa de sonhar transformações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A busca cotidiana por tudo que é sublime,&lt;br /&gt;e o doce desejo de sugar o açúcar de todas as coisas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feliz Natal !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Edson Marques&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://mude.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;http://mude.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt; &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/6289510357646665971-8295102781882307194?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/8295102781882307194/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=8295102781882307194' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8295102781882307194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8295102781882307194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/12/o-presente-de-natal-que-eu-quero-te-dar.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SzQu7b1tdjI/AAAAAAAAB58/0OKAw-WGTAw/s72-c/arvore-de-natal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1434444651388193289</id><published>2009-12-18T12:26:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T12:34:52.394-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Janete Andrade'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SyugXM9w9LI/AAAAAAAAB5M/AddwJRHM1nQ/s1600-h/custa.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416599297320875186" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SyugXM9w9LI/AAAAAAAAB5M/AddwJRHM1nQ/s400/custa.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;"...Desejava banhar a alma numa chuva de lágrimas, arrastar as impurezas em ondas de choro, inundar o peito afogando as mágoas, limpar as cicatrizes, umedecendo as feridas por baixo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Lavar a face, deixar escorrer o riso triste, saborear o sal da lágrimas para depois redescobrir o doce nas pequenas alegrias. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Desejava transbordar-me... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;E assim como o céu que após a chuva enfeita-se com um arco-íris multicolorido, meus olhos após choverem também iriam colorir-se outra vez... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;O choro levaria embora todo o amontoado de sujeira que guardo no peito."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Janete Andrade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://oalcancedapromessa.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://oalcancedapromessa.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-1434444651388193289?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1434444651388193289/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1434444651388193289' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1434444651388193289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1434444651388193289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SyugXM9w9LI/AAAAAAAAB5M/AddwJRHM1nQ/s72-c/custa.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-7095352631247715382</id><published>2009-12-04T10:19:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T00:41:36.520-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='(Cris...)'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 330px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411370535962034610" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SxkM1PAIQbI/AAAAAAAAB4k/yIM-4VHHkt4/s400/1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;"Procura mais de si mesma pra não se perder do pouco que restou . Pra não endurecer. Pra não admitir que tudo foi engano. Pra não desacreditar. Pra não deixar morrer dentro dela o que sempre lhe foi verdadeiro. Pra aceitar suas limitações. Pra reconhecer que não é tão nobre assim, que, por vezes, abandona suas flores e é só tempestades (procura seu sol, só encontra trovões... )Pra parar de querer ser senhora da situação. Pra entender que o coração erra também e que os sentimentos traem (certezas se dissolvem na covardia daqueles que não sabem olhar mais fundo). Pra não insistir em perguntas. Pra não buscar desculpas. Pra encarar as respostas não dadas (suadas-não ditas-sentidas). Sangrar constatações, isso dói. Abandonar suas crenças, dói ainda mais ... Não há como se encontrar quando se perdem convicções.As horas andam e as fendas são tantas... Atenções desperdiçadas, história interrompida, já não há mais como voltar. Frestas apenas, nenhuma porta aberta, segredo algum pra guardar ... Sobram falhas, restam medos, e o tempo vai tecendo vazios, e só..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Cris...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://precisotantoaproveitarvoce.zip.net/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Http://precisotantoaproveitarvoce.zip.net/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-7095352631247715382?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/7095352631247715382/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=7095352631247715382' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7095352631247715382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7095352631247715382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/12/procura-mais-de-si-mesma-pra-nao-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SxkM1PAIQbI/AAAAAAAAB4k/yIM-4VHHkt4/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3940695390178177996</id><published>2009-12-03T20:04:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T20:14:18.612-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Diana Valentina'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SxhEqQO8drI/AAAAAAAAB4c/FCDCseHB_aw/s1600-h/lost__by_Redeemer_of_light.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 237px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411150444988495538" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SxhEqQO8drI/AAAAAAAAB4c/FCDCseHB_aw/s400/lost__by_Redeemer_of_light.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;saiu com aquele olhar.&lt;br /&gt;nem mágico nem bonito.&lt;br /&gt;era calmo, talvez.&lt;br /&gt;vestiu a melhor versão de si mesma e foi.&lt;br /&gt;desejou inutilmente não-estar. e estava.&lt;br /&gt;corpo e mente completamente separados,&lt;br /&gt;reencontrou pessoas. manteve distância do novo.&lt;br /&gt;fingia lindamente que a sua vida era normal.&lt;br /&gt;não se despediu e foi embora em absoluto silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eleanor rigby a entenderia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Diana Valentina&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://aoptimista.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;http://aoptimista.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&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/6289510357646665971-3940695390178177996?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3940695390178177996/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3940695390178177996' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3940695390178177996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3940695390178177996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/12/saiu-com-aquele-olhar.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SxhEqQO8drI/AAAAAAAAB4c/FCDCseHB_aw/s72-c/lost__by_Redeemer_of_light.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3798765172626943180</id><published>2009-11-20T11:16:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T00:42:52.181-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mário Quintana'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SwalwYZxWBI/AAAAAAAAB3k/BMI_zIcRIq0/s1600/WomanField.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 230px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406190653307705362" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SwalwYZxWBI/AAAAAAAAB3k/BMI_zIcRIq0/s400/WomanField.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ela era branca, branca.&lt;br /&gt;Dessa brancura que não se usa mais.&lt;br /&gt;Mas sua alma era furta-cor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Mário Quintana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&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/6289510357646665971-3798765172626943180?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3798765172626943180/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3798765172626943180' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3798765172626943180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3798765172626943180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/11/ela-era-branca-branca.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SwalwYZxWBI/AAAAAAAAB3k/BMI_zIcRIq0/s72-c/WomanField.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2685860048200089194</id><published>2009-10-15T02:20:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T02:27:12.688-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Késia Maximiano'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sta_S-DJVEI/AAAAAAAABys/FlL1Wxi2Kng/s1600-h/te.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392707936437490754" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sta_S-DJVEI/AAAAAAAABys/FlL1Wxi2Kng/s400/te.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Conjugando os teus infinitos verbos encontrei a minha mais doce palavra. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E num dia em que a brisa batia leve e tranqüila, minhas urgências gritavam cada vez mais nítidas o teu nome, incessantemente, como se cada parte do que tenho de mais intenso pudesse me fazer inteira apenas ao reconhecer essa metáfora suave e leve, em meio às tantas tempestades desse imenso vazio lotado de palavras que eu não precisei dizer para que você entendesse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(...) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Só você decifra e preenche os vazios que há em mim"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Késia Maximiano&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://japonesembraile.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://japonesembraile.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2685860048200089194?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2685860048200089194/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2685860048200089194' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2685860048200089194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2685860048200089194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/10/conjugando-os-teus-infinitos-verbos.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sta_S-DJVEI/AAAAAAAABys/FlL1Wxi2Kng/s72-c/te.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-4241096061249137918</id><published>2009-09-19T23:14:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T00:45:47.655-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aline Gianasi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SrWfQ2oVu0I/AAAAAAAABw0/eqQehDN8aOE/s1600-h/gosto_de_vc_na_boca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 228px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383384041482730306" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SrWfQ2oVu0I/AAAAAAAABw0/eqQehDN8aOE/s400/gosto_de_vc_na_boca.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;"&gt;"Queria acordar nos seus braços. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E passar o dia todo perdida no seu peito." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Aline Gianasi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://meiolalala.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666666;"&gt;http://meiolalala.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&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/6289510357646665971-4241096061249137918?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/4241096061249137918/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=4241096061249137918' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4241096061249137918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/4241096061249137918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/09/queria-acordar-nos-seus-bracos.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SrWfQ2oVu0I/AAAAAAAABw0/eqQehDN8aOE/s72-c/gosto_de_vc_na_boca.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-812391966881872573</id><published>2009-09-12T16:54:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T13:27:55.679-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Serena - Cris'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SqwLM71EZSI/AAAAAAAABv0/kcTT_NWKd-M/s1600-h/05.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380687971647513890" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SqwLM71EZSI/AAAAAAAABv0/kcTT_NWKd-M/s400/05.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Chuviscou só. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Mas não apagou o fogo aqui dentro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Onde as histórias são tantas e as lembranças muitas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Onde há poeira nas coisas antigas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;[Menos nas emoções que, essas, são sempre limpinhas].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Do mais, tou bem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Ando costurando os trapos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Sou especialista na arte dos remendos."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Serena - Cris&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://blog-fuzue.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://blog-fuzue.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-812391966881872573?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/812391966881872573/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=812391966881872573' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/812391966881872573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/812391966881872573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/09/chuviscou-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SqwLM71EZSI/AAAAAAAABv0/kcTT_NWKd-M/s72-c/05.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2399030083615698790</id><published>2009-09-11T17:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T17:53:38.171-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Caio Fernando'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SqrFxgQWi4I/AAAAAAAABvs/GMQ2vILpgUU/s1600-h/AMIGAS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380330159110261634" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SqrFxgQWi4I/AAAAAAAABvs/GMQ2vILpgUU/s400/AMIGAS.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"parado ali no chão, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;eu sentia que dentro de mim alguma coisa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;estava nascendo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ou pressagiava o que viria também de fora &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;e seria completo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;pois são completas as coisas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;quando acontecem depois de anunciadas por dentro, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;criando um estado capaz de receber o que virá de fora."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caio Fernando&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2399030083615698790?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2399030083615698790/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2399030083615698790' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2399030083615698790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2399030083615698790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/09/parado-ali-no-chao-eu-sentia-que-dentro.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SqrFxgQWi4I/AAAAAAAABvs/GMQ2vILpgUU/s72-c/AMIGAS.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6620834248733808539</id><published>2009-08-30T00:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T01:03:01.761-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tati Bernardi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SpoHl5tcEgI/AAAAAAAABuc/10OfOYWOBEQ/s1600-h/saudade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 260px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 253px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375617452948066818" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SpoHl5tcEgI/AAAAAAAABuc/10OfOYWOBEQ/s400/saudade.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"[...] E eu tenho vontade de segurar seu rosto e ordenar que você seja esperto e jamais me perca e seja feliz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E entenda que temos tudo o que duas pessoas precisam para ser feliz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A gente dá muitas risadas juntos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A gente admira o outro desde o dedinho do pé até onde cada um chegou sozinho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A gente acha que o mundo está maluco e sonha com a praia do Espelho e com sonos jamais despertados antes do meio-dia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A gente tem certeza de que nenhum perfume do mundo é melhor do que a nuca do outro no final do dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A gente se reconheceu de longa data quando se viu pela primeira vez na vida..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tati Bernardi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&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/6289510357646665971-6620834248733808539?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6620834248733808539/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6620834248733808539' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6620834248733808539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6620834248733808539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SpoHl5tcEgI/AAAAAAAABuc/10OfOYWOBEQ/s72-c/saudade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6150820208827018504</id><published>2009-08-29T11:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T11:51:48.499-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fernanda Mello'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SplOFt6HA8I/AAAAAAAABuU/8A44cAp65qc/s1600-h/faxina+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 332px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 331px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375413490373034946" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SplOFt6HA8I/AAAAAAAABuU/8A44cAp65qc/s400/faxina+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Eu comecei minha faxina. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Tudo que não serve mais &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(sentimentos, momentos, pessoas) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;eu coloquei dentro de uma caixa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E joguei fora. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(sem apego. Sem melancolia. Sem saudade). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A ordem é desocupar lugares."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fernanda Mello&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://fernandacmello.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://fernandacmello.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-6150820208827018504?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6150820208827018504/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6150820208827018504' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6150820208827018504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6150820208827018504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/08/eu-comecei-minha-faxina.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SplOFt6HA8I/AAAAAAAABuU/8A44cAp65qc/s72-c/faxina+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2677943010835801375</id><published>2009-08-08T15:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T15:28:59.922-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='(Cris...)'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sn3Rolsak_I/AAAAAAAABs4/aQH1GhsioAM/s1600-h/ida.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 396px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 324px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367676826138874866" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sn3Rolsak_I/AAAAAAAABs4/aQH1GhsioAM/s400/ida.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Quis te falar de tudo isso que cresceu dentro da gente, deixando saudade dentro do peito e uma vontade louca de fazer parar o tempo no momento exato do teu gosto na minha boca, da tua febre na minha pele. Naquele instante em que você transpirava meus poros e meu corpo respirava teus pêlos. Tudo era afago e desejo, urgência e ardência, loucura que trazia paz. Mas por um motivo que não entendo, e que agora já nem tento, você não quis ouvir... E tudo foi perdendo o sentido. Gestos, promessas, afetos,  carinhos e atenções... Tudo foi  ficando para trás. E tanta coisa foi acontecendo em nossas vidas sem que de fato você se deixasse acontecer de verdade em mim. Sei que há muito mais a ser contado e encarado, mas o medo como sempre é maior, e tudo foi se acumulando... É...”tanta coisa foi acumulando em nossas vidas e eu fui sentido falta de um vão pra me esconder, aos poucos fui ficando  mesmo sem saída, perder o vazio é empobrecer. Não vou querer ser a dona da verdade, também tenho saudade, mas já são quatro e tal...” É isso, ainda tenho saudade sim, mas parece tão tarde agora... e já nem sei mais se o que falo ainda faz algum sentido (pra você, antes ainda pra mim). A verdade (se é que existe alguma) é que to empobrecendo desse sentimento, ando me perdendo do que nunca fui... Nunca fui tão inteira nas sobras, tão completa nas frestas. Nunca havia me dado assim. Nunca fui perfeita, mas com você me entreguei sem pudores, fui você na parte mais bonita de mim... Fui puta, fui santa, sacana, inocente, indecente e pura. Fui tudo e além do que podíamos ser (do que você nos permitiu ser). Fui sincera do início ao fim (um fim que nunca houve de um início que nunca existiu...)"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Cris...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://precisotantoaproveitarvoce.zip.net/"&gt;http://precisotantoaproveitarvoce.zip.net/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-2677943010835801375?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2677943010835801375/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2677943010835801375' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2677943010835801375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2677943010835801375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/08/quis-te-falar-de-tudo-isso-que-cresceu.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sn3Rolsak_I/AAAAAAAABs4/aQH1GhsioAM/s72-c/ida.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-81739147108320740</id><published>2009-08-03T18:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:40:39.872-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aline Romero'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sndms5mvIfI/AAAAAAAABsA/SUHKYFzFxvo/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365870402598806002" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sndms5mvIfI/AAAAAAAABsA/SUHKYFzFxvo/s400/2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Tem um tipo de saudade que não cessa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;É um tipo de saudade que exige a presença, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;que exige o toque, que exige palavras e que exige silêncio. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Uma saudade que nunca acaba, que está sempre ali, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;em cada despedida, em cada carência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;O tipo de saudade que eu tenho dele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Uma saudade sempre presente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Uma necessidade constante dele. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Uma vontade mesmo que insconsciente de rouba-lo pra mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E só eu sei a falta que ele me faz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;------Não é que eu já esteja com saudade; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;eu ainda estou com saudades. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;É que nunca dá tempo de eu me cansar de você. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Ainda bem."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aline Romero&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://notasnoturnas.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://notasnoturnas.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;/&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/6289510357646665971-81739147108320740?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/81739147108320740/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=81739147108320740' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/81739147108320740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/81739147108320740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/08/tem-um-tipo-de-saudade-que-nao-cessa.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sndms5mvIfI/AAAAAAAABsA/SUHKYFzFxvo/s72-c/2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-8345050536400893951</id><published>2009-07-28T17:10:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T17:16:18.012-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriele Fidalgo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sm9paOdnWlI/AAAAAAAABrQ/BdOlTFey4kw/s1600-h/49ed0b1b5db0e27578522ef7c0181e51.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363621580501375570" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sm9paOdnWlI/AAAAAAAABrQ/BdOlTFey4kw/s400/49ed0b1b5db0e27578522ef7c0181e51.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"[...]Abro a vida para escrever meus sonhos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Isso é mais importante que acreditar e mais bonito que ver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Desta única e intensa maneira, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;encontro meus desejos cada vez mais postos a prova. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Diante de mim, dentro da minha prória janela.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Desta maneira eu sou a força &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;que acalma o medo de ser mais forte que o mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Assim, solenemente, é que eu caço e crio amores. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Errando, provando e sentindo com o umbigo."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gabriele Fidalgo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://apenadaasadeumanjo.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://apenadaasadeumanjo.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-8345050536400893951?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/8345050536400893951/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=8345050536400893951' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8345050536400893951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/8345050536400893951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/07/abro-vida-para-escrever-meus-sonhos.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sm9paOdnWlI/AAAAAAAABrQ/BdOlTFey4kw/s72-c/49ed0b1b5db0e27578522ef7c0181e51.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-3180448365656516115</id><published>2009-07-26T21:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T22:03:06.585-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Briza'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sm0KHjndsJI/AAAAAAAABqw/NVrQfz1vSac/s1600-h/613.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 369px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362953856204255378" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sm0KHjndsJI/AAAAAAAABqw/NVrQfz1vSac/s400/613.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Tem dias em que a gente acorda... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E a saudade vai costurando as horas."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Briza&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://brizacomz.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://brizacomz.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-3180448365656516115?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/3180448365656516115/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=3180448365656516115' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3180448365656516115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/3180448365656516115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/07/tem-dias-em-que-gente-acorda.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Sm0KHjndsJI/AAAAAAAABqw/NVrQfz1vSac/s72-c/613.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1925069550118198317</id><published>2009-07-25T14:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T20:07:17.011-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yasha'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmtTqClp8iI/AAAAAAAABpY/PoSyq5OPKlc/s1600-h/bb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 296px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362471763029127714" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmtTqClp8iI/AAAAAAAABpY/PoSyq5OPKlc/s400/bb.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"[...] E quando você me deixasse existir na sua vida, eu te mostraria meus arco-íris, até os cinzentos e os invisíveis, em todas as suas nuances de transparências, mas eu te ensinaria a lhes sentir pelo tato, para que você pudesse reconhecer minhas ausências e saber quando eu realmente não estou e quando eu apenas me escondo no ambiente para fugir - de mim, muitas vezes, que não tenho muito jeito nem com os outros e nem comigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;[...] Queria então chegar como um vento morno e sem estardalhaço me misturar à tua atmosfera, e ficar ali esperando que me respirasses, e no teu corpo me misturaria às tuas células, e um dia, sem sequer notar, eu já faria parte de ti. Sei que na verdade às vezes me aproximo como tempestade, e arranco telhados, quebro vidraças, inundo tuas plantações, sei bem. Mas é por isso que te peço aqui - se eu chegasse mansa, você acolheria minhas impossibilidades?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;[...] Vem. Te aceito em mim. Seja-me um pouco, experimenta o mundo com meus olhos e te mostro a poesia que enxergo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;[...] Me deixa provar teu mundo e ele então fará parte do meu. Tua experiência comporá meu repertório - escuta, já somos tantas melodias, em cantar, encantamo-nos. Casa tua alma com a minha e leva teu corpo por onde quiser. Sejamos sempre dois que se misturam, mas não se invadem - penetrações consentidas. Entra em mim, bem-vindo, e me receba, e assim sejamos muito e mais, por sermos ainda e sempre dois - o que te ofereço é soma, e não fusão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Vem?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yasha&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://l-a-b-i-r-i-n-t-o.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://l-a-b-i-r-i-n-t-o.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-1925069550118198317?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1925069550118198317/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1925069550118198317' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1925069550118198317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1925069550118198317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post_25.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmtTqClp8iI/AAAAAAAABpY/PoSyq5OPKlc/s72-c/bb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-2314657861441074928</id><published>2009-07-25T14:26:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T20:16:53.566-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriela'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmtOwpUeTVI/AAAAAAAABpQ/B1LDALQEVlE/s1600-h/20080411235304897.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 288px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362466378947120466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmtOwpUeTVI/AAAAAAAABpQ/B1LDALQEVlE/s400/20080411235304897.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Não feche os olhos ainda. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Espere escurecer totalmente, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;até ficar impossível nos vermos detalhe por detalhe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Não durma ainda, vamos ficar assim só mais um pouco. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Não temos muito desses momentos; tem sempre tanta gente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Não durma ainda, vamos sentir nós dois mais um pouco, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;só até existir a certeza de que nada no mundo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;é mais bonito do que esse nosso agora.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Me abrace também. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Forte. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Só para eu sentir você, o seu carinho, a sua pele. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Só para eu ter certeza de que você está comigo agora &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;e essa mágica que cintila não é sonho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Não durma, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;me abrace e diga que eu sou importante para você. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Não que eu não saiba, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;eu só quero ouvir as palavras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;saltitarem docemente de você até meus ouvidos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Agora, apenas me olhe nos olhos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E isso ficará para sempre."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gabriela&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://melissa-spring.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://melissa-spring.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&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/6289510357646665971-2314657861441074928?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/2314657861441074928/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=2314657861441074928' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2314657861441074928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/2314657861441074928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/07/nao-feche-os-olhos-ainda.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmtOwpUeTVI/AAAAAAAABpQ/B1LDALQEVlE/s72-c/20080411235304897.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-7059272024716843460</id><published>2009-07-24T21:32:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T20:18:46.150-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rita'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Smpg9ks8NeI/AAAAAAAABoo/H2MOT51VZYk/s1600-h/0b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 313px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362204917278455266" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Smpg9ks8NeI/AAAAAAAABoo/H2MOT51VZYk/s400/0b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;. Desejos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;-e que meu beijo seja tatuagem em sua pele!."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rita&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://cosquenta.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://cosquenta.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&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/6289510357646665971-7059272024716843460?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/7059272024716843460/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=7059272024716843460' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7059272024716843460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/7059272024716843460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post_24.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/Smpg9ks8NeI/AAAAAAAABoo/H2MOT51VZYk/s72-c/0b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-6460862162157101802</id><published>2009-07-23T16:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T01:07:01.627-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Babi Soler'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmjKlhozZxI/AAAAAAAABoQ/OjeyB60-0jk/s1600-h/Is_This_Freedom__by_pelleron.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 317px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361758102418056978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmjKlhozZxI/AAAAAAAABoQ/OjeyB60-0jk/s400/Is_This_Freedom__by_pelleron.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; FONT-FAMILY: georgia; COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;"[...] Gostaria mesmo de espreguiçar cedo&lt;br /&gt;e estar preparada para novos caminhos,&lt;br /&gt;mas naquele exato momento os sonhos&lt;br /&gt;a abraçavam muito ternamente...&lt;br /&gt;...e não foi possível despertar." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; FONT-FAMILY: georgia; COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Babi Soler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; FONT-FAMILY: georgia; COLOR: rgb(255,204,204)"&gt;&lt;a href="http://detudoetal.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;http://detudoetal.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6289510357646665971-6460862162157101802?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/6460862162157101802/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=6460862162157101802' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6460862162157101802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/6460862162157101802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmjKlhozZxI/AAAAAAAABoQ/OjeyB60-0jk/s72-c/Is_This_Freedom__by_pelleron.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6289510357646665971.post-1705880022549834020</id><published>2009-07-22T20:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T20:08:54.767-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Janete Andrade'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmeyJe8XmFI/AAAAAAAABoI/ViKtxjwrgaw/s1600-h/Faith_by_Apri1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 255px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361449757402699858" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmeyJe8XmFI/AAAAAAAABoI/ViKtxjwrgaw/s400/Faith_by_Apri1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"É nesses dias de Sol que fantasio. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Fantasio aquele sorriso tímido, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;aquele olhar salpicado de estrelas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;aquele abraço forte, aquele beijo demorado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Fantasio até que o último raio de Sol &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;perca-se no horizonte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;À noite, peço a primeira estrela cadente &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;que cruzar o céu para que o dia seguinte seja ensolarado, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;porque é nesses dias de Sol que encho-me de esperança,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;e fico à sua espera como se fosses mesmo voltar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Espero-te sempre em dias de Sol."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Janete Andrade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://oalcancedapromessa.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://oalcancedapromessa.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&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/6289510357646665971-1705880022549834020?l=rastrosoutros.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/feeds/1705880022549834020/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6289510357646665971&amp;postID=1705880022549834020' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1705880022549834020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6289510357646665971/posts/default/1705880022549834020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rastrosoutros.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-nesses-dias-de-sol-que-fantasio.html' title=''/><author><name>Ni ...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02598084877091797588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/TJEz_jPwRJI/AAAAAAAACFY/J5tVFr7awLo/S220/3757367.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2AD9JvkSp3M/SmeyJe8XmFI/AAAAAAAABoI/ViKtxjwrgaw/s72-c/Faith_by_Apri1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
