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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8EQn0zeCp7ImA9WhdTEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398</id><updated>2011-07-08T03:33:23.380-03:00</updated><category term="Deposito" /><category term="controle" /><category term="ex love" /><category term="Andromeda" /><category term="Anos" /><category term="Mitologia Grega." /><category term="Segundo" /><category term="Portishead" /><category term="Acid" /><category term="Grego" /><category term="low self steem" /><category term="Carencia" /><category term="Blog" /><category term="love." /><title>ACID BITE</title><subtitle type="html">Idéias repetidas. Sentimentos iguais.

Alucinações de um errabundo.


(Não busque verdades, não procure coerência. Aqui é o meu espaço, onde posso ser do jeito que nunca fui.)

בהמות</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>77</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/AcidBite" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="acidbite" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UHR3ozeSp7ImA9WxNaGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-967908306813723334</id><published>2009-11-27T13:05:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T17:33:56.481-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-04T17:33:56.481-02:00</app:edited><title>THE DRAGON LADY MIXTAPE</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n3IGraGYTFY/Sw_q8zEwUbI/AAAAAAAAAlg/kzssCc84RFY/s1600/Pulpo-Arte-JenCorace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n3IGraGYTFY/Sw_q8zEwUbI/AAAAAAAAAlg/kzssCc84RFY/s400/Pulpo-Arte-JenCorace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408800007718457778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;00. The Dragon Lady Fashion Editor Miss Maxwell Intro&lt;br /&gt;01. Numero# - Star Model (Le Matos Poindexter Remix)&lt;br /&gt;02. Underworld - Ring Road (AutoKratz Left Hand Drive Remix)&lt;br /&gt;03. The Hours - See The Light (Calvin Harris Remix)&lt;br /&gt;04. Simian Mobile Disco - Audacity Of Huge (Dekker &amp;amp; Johan Remix)&lt;br /&gt;05. The Sounds - No One Sleeps When I'm Awake (La Dolce Vita Remix)&lt;br /&gt;06. Sally Shapiro - Love In July (Le Prix Remix)&lt;br /&gt;07. VHS or Beta - Feel It When You Know (LA Riots Remix)&lt;br /&gt;08. Mini Viva - Left My Heart In Tokyo (Treasure Fingers Remix)&lt;br /&gt;09. Baldo &amp;amp; Marshall - Swahili Song (Original Mix)&lt;br /&gt;10. Gossip - Love Long Distance (Riva Starr Remix)&lt;br /&gt;11. Crystal Fighters – I Love London (Zombie Disco Squad Remix)&lt;br /&gt;12. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Heads Will Roll (A-Trak Remix) (Andre Pipipi Funk Edit)&lt;br /&gt;13. Maskinen Feat. Marina Gasolina - Dansa Med Vapen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOWNLOAD LINK:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.zshare.net/audio/6908574794159d71/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-967908306813723334?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/2564279058717646316/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=2564279058717646316&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/2564279058717646316?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/2564279058717646316?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2009/09/e-brilho-de-alvitre.html" title="RETICÊNCIAS..." /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IEQHY4cSp7ImA9WxNRE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-4118021439677096938</id><published>2009-09-07T12:14:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T13:05:01.839-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-07T13:05:01.839-03:00</app:edited><title>PÍLULA</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.monicapiloni.com/imagens/telas/ImgsGde/SerieBallet1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 403px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 362px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.monicapiloni.com/imagens/telas/ImgsGde/SerieBallet1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Das saudades e sumiços...&lt;br /&gt;Das lutas sem presença.&lt;br /&gt;Do vento célere em corredores lisos, sem entraves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E aguardo seu contato.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-4118021439677096938?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/7099560252352284844/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=7099560252352284844&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/7099560252352284844?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/7099560252352284844?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2009/07/deposito.html" title="DEPÓSITO" /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n3IGraGYTFY/SlTainOljPI/AAAAAAAAAko/8sAir7NRg_o/s72-c/L3-791829.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMER3g5cCp7ImA9WxJREkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-195485262488496824</id><published>2009-05-13T16:13:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T16:20:06.628-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-13T16:20:06.628-03:00</app:edited><title>O SER MENOR</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.kittygenius.com/kitty_genius/images/il_fullxfull5447756.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 469px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.kittygenius.com/kitty_genius/images/il_fullxfull5447756.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sou sempre o ser menor que a adentra ambientes pelas frestas.&lt;br /&gt;Vapores que sobem ao teto e que desaparecem sem vestígios&lt;br /&gt;O amor que você tinha nas mãos e que nunca guardou no peito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faço parte da historia que se rasgou, do filme que queimou&lt;br /&gt;Fui mais feliz quando acreditava que fazia bem para as suas horas.&lt;br /&gt;Aquele mágico que podia tirar coelhos de cartolas e não o homem que nunca soube dizer que amava outro.&lt;br /&gt;Assim foi pelos anos que se passaram, eu sempre esperando que mais e mais coelhos saíssem e enchesse meu quarto. Que me esmagassem, sufocassem o ser menor que entra por suas frestas. Liquefaça os vapores, que chova dentro do seu peito, para que possa me agarrar em seu amor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-195485262488496824?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/6214628815015349328/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=6214628815015349328&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/6214628815015349328?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/6214628815015349328?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2009/02/up-and-down.html" title="UP! AND DOWN" /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUASHk9eCp7ImA9WxVRFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-7129936212286712211</id><published>2009-01-22T13:20:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T13:30:49.760-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-22T13:30:49.760-02:00</app:edited><title>No caos encontrei saida...</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n3IGraGYTFY/SXiQsX4HjgI/AAAAAAAAAjI/vJ_6fzaCvF4/s1600-h/illustration13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n3IGraGYTFY/SXiQsX4HjgI/AAAAAAAAAjI/vJ_6fzaCvF4/s400/illustration13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294140453972053506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SARAH VAUGHAN - SOMETHING&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something in the way he moves&lt;br /&gt;Attracts me like no other lover&lt;br /&gt;Something in the way he woos me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don´t want to leave his now&lt;br /&gt;You know i believe and how&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in his smile he knows&lt;br /&gt;That I don´t need no other lover&lt;br /&gt;Something in his style that shows me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don´t want to leave him now&lt;br /&gt;You know I believe and how&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You´re asking me will my love grow&lt;br /&gt;I don´t know, I don´t know&lt;br /&gt;You stick around now it may show&lt;br /&gt;I don´t know, I don´t know, I don´t know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguma coisa no seu jeito de sorrir&lt;br /&gt;me atrai de maneira, de maneira como por ninguém&lt;br /&gt;Alguma coisa no seu modo de olhar ou de andar, sei lá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don´t want to leave him now&lt;br /&gt;You know I believe and how&lt;br /&gt;You´re asking me will my love grow&lt;br /&gt;I don´t know, I don´t know&lt;br /&gt;You stick around now it may show&lt;br /&gt;I don´t know, I don´t know, I don´t know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Actually, I know."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-7129936212286712211?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/8479892407248211720/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=8479892407248211720&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/8479892407248211720?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/8479892407248211720?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2009/01/essa-xicaras-de-ch.html" title="Essa xicaras de chá..." /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08BSH89eSp7ImA9WxVREE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-5264674100642361501</id><published>2009-01-15T13:46:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T14:10:59.161-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-15T14:10:59.161-02:00</app:edited><title>TEMPO DE NEVASCAS...</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.mainlesson.com/books/perkins/japanese/zpage030.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 513px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 753px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.mainlesson.com/books/perkins/japanese/zpage030.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mainlesson.com/books/perkins/japanese/zpage030.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mainlesson.com/books/perkins/japanese/zpage030.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Olhando pra janela não reconheci o ambiente. Ainda sonolento. Ainda.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O quarto fica em frente a um campo verde, hoje branco. Branco... é, hoje tá branco... Branco?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Frio e inóspito. Até o rapaz chegar e alegrar o quarto, o meu quarto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pena que ele não sabe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um dia... Pode ser, né?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-5264674100642361501?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/5264674100642361501/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=5264674100642361501&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/5264674100642361501?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/5264674100642361501?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2009/01/tempo-de-nevascas.html" title="TEMPO DE NEVASCAS..." /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcDSXk6fSp7ImA9WxRVEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-6893459612155525408</id><published>2008-11-08T17:25:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T17:37:58.715-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-08T17:37:58.715-02:00</app:edited><title>Apertado, sufocado... Um dia acordo disso.</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iu5Ryb9tht8/SOjD4dKfc-I/AAAAAAAACQk/hkr67WBiQSc/s400/NANUK-OMAT.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 399px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Iu5Ryb9tht8/SOjD4dKfc-I/AAAAAAAACQk/hkr67WBiQSc/s400/NANUK-OMAT.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A chuva só serve pra me lavar e levar qualquer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;resíduo&lt;/span&gt; que ficou em mim. Além de me colocar pra baixo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Difícil&lt;/span&gt; viu?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-6893459612155525408?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/4941742322216761076/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=4941742322216761076&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/4941742322216761076?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/4941742322216761076?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2008/10/medo-do-invisvel-de-ser-invisvel.html" title="MEDO DO INVISÍVEL, DE SER INVISÍVEL." /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEHQXk5eip7ImA9WxRSF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-1037246822275280627</id><published>2008-09-18T16:30:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T16:37:10.722-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-18T16:37:10.722-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Portishead" /><title>Wooden Heart</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.one-world-is-enough.net/acatalog/heartdishs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.one-world-is-enough.net/acatalog/heartdishs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não nos olhamos, e isso seria um dos indícios que o que houve antes ainda não foi extinto. O ato de se abraçar não tem nenhum apelo forte, é mais uma ação que independe de outros, é como se escovássemos os dentes ou lavássemos as mãos depois de sujarmos com tinta de caneta que estourou. Mesmo numa conversa direta, em que devemos olhar pra nosso interlocutor, ainda sim existe uma esquiva poderosa que nos oprime. E de vez em quando me pego pensando/sonhando com um abraço cáustico. Mas a minha obstinação em não aceitar mudanças cobra um preço muito alto. É mesmo necessário que olhares se cruzem e se fixem para demonstrar apreço e respeito? É viável voltar a sentir necessidade de carinhos e a vontade de grudar boca com boca quando se encontrar ou sente anseio forte? Me pego pensando se me faço presente por carência ou por rancor. E isso não faz nada bem, mesmo depois de mais de um ano. Porém, mesmo nesses encontros vacilantes, a força que nossos intelectos funcionam, impulsionando esse frenesi de sentimentos, mostrando a qualquer um que reconheça essa faísca de amor ainda perseverando em brilhar, que se tentássemos desvencilhar o âmago do outro, conseguiríamos uma proeza tamanha, que assustaria os amantes ao nosso redor. E acredito que por isso não podemos jamais nos sentir confortável estando no mesmo cômodo ou no mesmo país. Mesmo quando tento preencher o espaço deixado por outra alma, se torna fraca essa ação. Não sei se quero que seja preenchido ou se prefiro domar outro impulso de gritar no seu portão mal afixado no muro da sua casa. E depois de mais um sonho, extremamente vivido, volto a escrever pra falar mais uma vez que não sei coexistir com a falta que sinto. Se ainda amo mesmo essa criatura complicada e mais cativante que conheci. Que neuras ancestrais apareçam e que consiga de uma vez por todas derrota-las. Claro que só terei forças para essa batalha em meus enleios noturnos ou durante os momentos de semi-sono enquanto ando de metrô.&lt;br /&gt;E de tudo isso só restou um urso de pelúcia, umas fotos que usamos nossas roupas trocadas, o primeiro cd do segundo encontro e um agasalho recebido da partilha de bens. Que eu consiga depois de queimar tudo isso aceitar que não vou mais ter você do mesmo jeito que achava que tinha. Que entre outra pessoa na minha vida do mesmo jeito atordoante que você entrou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“And it's only you, who can turn my wooden heart”&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/3383011401139516398-1037246822275280627?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/1037246822275280627/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=1037246822275280627&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/1037246822275280627?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/1037246822275280627?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2008/09/wooden-heart.html" title="Wooden Heart" /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MGQ386eCp7ImA9WxRTEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-489298222828498767</id><published>2008-09-01T12:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T13:10:22.110-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-01T13:10:22.110-03:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Faz&lt;/span&gt; tempo q &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; tenho saca pra escrever em blogs, mas hoje depois de sentir um frio na barriga e o mesmo passou muito &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;rápido&lt;/span&gt;, me senti a vontade pra escrever aqui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Já&lt;/span&gt; algum tempo tinha conseguido me recuperar das perdas que tive a dois anos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;atrás&lt;/span&gt;, e hoje vendo como isso me influenciava, fiquei tão tranquilo de conseguir me livrar disso. Foi realmente complicado deixar essa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;dependência&lt;/span&gt; de lado, mas foi por que &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; sei lidar com mudanças. Sempre foi complicado aceitar algo q muda de repente ou q eu sei q &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; vai se sustentar por muito tempo. Foi mais por isso, do que por algum sentimento &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;cliche&lt;/span&gt;, que me sentia derrotado. Foi por &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; aceitar a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ausência&lt;/span&gt; que sempre tive do meu lado e isso me machucava muito. Hoje, mesmo sabendo o que me esperava, fui conferir e tirei a prova de que a mudança &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;drástica&lt;/span&gt; que &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;passei&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; tem mais efeito sobre mim. Ficou a saudade das coisas boas, e &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;nao&lt;/span&gt; acho q isso irá sumir. Deve diminuir com a falta de &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;convivência&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caminhos diferentes que um dia se cruzaram, hoje só sobrou o pó das estradas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-489298222828498767?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/AcidBite?a=Nx-JLDN__b4:wqDtI-2cOKU:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/AcidBite?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/4149475345506029990/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=4149475345506029990&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/4149475345506029990?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/4149475345506029990?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2008/07/longe-bem-longe.html" title="Longe, bem longe." /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MBSHgzfCp7ImA9WxdQE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-6921402845947479642</id><published>2008-06-12T19:15:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T19:24:19.684-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-06-12T19:24:19.684-03:00</app:edited><title>Cardigans - For What It's Worth</title><content type="html">&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/s2UWxiLSA48&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/s2UWxiLSA48&amp;hl=en&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One, two, three, four&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hey baby come round&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Keep holding me down&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I'll be keeping you up tonight.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The four letter word got stuck in my head&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The dirtiest word that I've ever said&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's making me feel alright.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For what it's worth I love you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And what is worse I really do&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh what is worse &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm gonna run run run&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Till the sweetness gets to you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And what is worse I love you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hey please baby come back&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There'll be no more loving attack&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I'll be keeping it cool tonight.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The four letter word is out of my head&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Come on around get back in my bed&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Keep making me feel alright.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For what it's worth I like you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And what is worse I really do&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Things have been worse&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And we had fun fun fun&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'Till I said I love you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And what is worse I really do!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For what it's worth I love you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And what is worse I really do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OhFor what it's worth I love you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And what is worse I really do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OhFor what it's worth I love you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And what is worse I really do....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-6921402845947479642?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/6921402845947479642/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=6921402845947479642&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/6921402845947479642?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/6921402845947479642?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2008/06/cardigans-for-what-its-worth.html" title="Cardigans - For What It's Worth" /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUNSHwyeip7ImA9WxdSFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-7478980186078090243</id><published>2008-05-21T18:38:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T19:01:39.292-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-21T19:01:39.292-03:00</app:edited><title>SÍNDROME DE ESTOCOLMO</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://gears.tucson.ars.ag.gov/na/bflr.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://gears.tucson.ars.ag.gov/na/bflr.jpeg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E como é que fui pegar isso?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem, a síndrome se desenvolve a partir de tentativas da vítima de se identificar com seu captor ou de conquistar a simpatia do sequestrador.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os maus tratos a essa vitima só aumento a simpatia que pelo raptor. E numa escala bem menor é exatamente assim que me sinto. Tentando (ainda) conquistar simpatia de alguém que no geral não me respeitou e que causou tantos problemas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To falando disso por que no post anterior o que pensava foi confirmado por outras pessoas. Era nítido que ocorriam olhares e que desses só se percebia rancor com ramificações extensas. Desde de inveja, raiva, desaprovação e saudade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas como isso até hoje consegue me afetar? E sempre pergunto isso aqui por q não consigo nem imaginar uma resposta. É tão natural ficar incomodado com isso, que hoje decidi não permitir mais qualquer olhar/gesto de censura. Só assim qualquer atitude minha tomada terá valor. Não existe razão alguma pra que permita que isso continue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claro, assim que bato o olho no agressor me desmonto e choro por dentro, sempre lembrando que no exterior sou alguém muito confiante e decidido. Como alguém se aproveita dessa brecha de personalidade e a utiliza pra me atacar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sempre pedi simples coisas, nada que afetasse uma rotina. Nada que gerasse transtorno e dificuldades. E onde fui parar? Sozinho e estúpido por usar um blog pra desabafar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas aos poucos isso está se tornando mais fraco, hoje já consigo parar de bisbilhotar pelas frestas da internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem sabe esqueço delas?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-7478980186078090243?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/7478980186078090243/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=7478980186078090243&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/7478980186078090243?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/7478980186078090243?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2008/05/sndrome-de-estocolmo.html" title="SÍNDROME DE ESTOCOLMO" /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYCSHc6cSp7ImA9WxdSEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-6431086723166867752</id><published>2008-05-19T19:34:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T19:46:09.919-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-19T19:46:09.919-03:00</app:edited><title>DEVERIA EXISTIR TRADUTOR DE OLHAR... (Titulo brega, porém coerente.)</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.richardgoodallgallery.com/contemporaryart/images/Ray_incognito.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.richardgoodallgallery.com/contemporaryart/images/Ray_incognito.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Querido diario...&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHHAHAH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sempre quis começar um post assim. Bem, o lance é o seguinte... Fui num aniversário no sábado e me acabei! Aff, a tempos que não me divertia assim! Mas sempre tinha um olhar meio "pesado" em minha direção, e como não olhar não tem som... não faço a menor ideia do que ele queria dizer. Se era me repreendendo ou gostando, admirando ou condenando. Mas sabe como é né, sempre foi assim. Eu que adivinhe o que queria dizer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem, quem souber me conte, ok?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-6431086723166867752?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/6431086723166867752/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=6431086723166867752&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/6431086723166867752?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/6431086723166867752?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2008/05/deveria-existir-tradutor-de-olhar.html" title="DEVERIA EXISTIR TRADUTOR DE OLHAR... (Titulo brega, porém coerente.)" /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MHQHY-cSp7ImA9WxdTGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-135359739922066446</id><published>2008-05-14T19:21:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T19:50:31.859-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-14T19:50:31.859-03:00</app:edited><title>DIVISÃO.</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio3/freethinking/2007/assets/content/freedom/cartoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio3/freethinking/2007/assets/content/freedom/cartoon.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nossa, como queria que os dias fossem tranquilos como ontem. Tudo que gritava dentro de mim foi engolido bueiro abaixo. Foi bater o olho e não sentir nada. E por que a falta só se manifesta sem a imagem acompanhando? Isso que me confunde, não consigo remanejar a saudade na presença do problema. Na hora que visualizo o que sinto falta passa algo dentro de mim que me congela. É outra pessoa que está na dianteira.&lt;br /&gt;No entanto ontem foi totalmente diferente. A saudade realmente apareceu mas não arranhou como costumava.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E por que?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ficar cego me faz muito mal, porém não poder te ver me doí muito. Que droga faço com esse sentimento? Cheio de questões que ninguém pode responder me despeço dizendo:&lt;br /&gt;MEUKUPROMUNDOEUQUEROÉSERFELIZPORRA!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-135359739922066446?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/135359739922066446/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=135359739922066446&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/135359739922066446?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/135359739922066446?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2008/05/diviso.html" title="DIVISÃO." /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcDQ3s7fyp7ImA9WxdTEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-5433044011466669005</id><published>2008-05-08T18:45:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T19:01:12.507-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-08T19:01:12.507-03:00</app:edited><title>FECHADO PARA BALANÇO - 2º PARTE.</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.guiafloripa.com.br/cultura/imagens/balanco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.guiafloripa.com.br/cultura/imagens/balanco.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To mais tranquilo, de vez enquanto é que sobe uma raiva/ciumes bobo.&lt;br /&gt;Mas to lidando bem com isso... Percebi que não preciso conviver com esse sentimento 24hs por dia. E ficou óbvio o tipo de pessoa que não preciso mais do meu lado. Não é nada bonito disfarçar intenções com palavras lindas. Já deu né?! Fui enganado como tantos outros. Já tinha o "problema" de me achar "especial" e isso era alimentado pra depois poder puxar a corda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boa sorte para os próximos que já ta na minha hora de acordar. Espero q outros não passem pelo mesmo. Já que perder alguém não significa nada pra uns, pra outros é muito mais doloroso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obs.: Isso tudo é magoa não resolvida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-5433044011466669005?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/feeds/5433044011466669005/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383011401139516398&amp;postID=5433044011466669005&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/5433044011466669005?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383011401139516398/posts/default/5433044011466669005?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acidbite.blogspot.com/2008/05/fechado-para-balano-2-parte.html" title="FECHADO PARA BALANÇO - 2º PARTE." /><author><name>Roque, quem sou?!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06412880135486674747</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://i16.tinypic.com/34xqc8g.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMBSHw-eSp7ImA9WxdTEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383011401139516398.post-2672848769757660456</id><published>2008-05-05T19:31:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T19:44:19.251-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-05T19:44:19.251-03:00</app:edited><title>Motivos, razões e circunstâncias.</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_n3IGraGYTFY/SB-NnF7yD7I/AAAAAAAAAaY/J_oVWdEaz14/s1600-h/Borboleta-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_n3IGraGYTFY/SB-NnF7yD7I/AAAAAAAAAaY/J_oVWdEaz14/s400/Borboleta-thumb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197028197756178354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me sinto muito estranho esses dias. Ainda mais sem Internet em kza, pelo menos eu podia esquecer um pouco o que me incomoda.&lt;br /&gt;Mas agora nenhuma leitura nem musica consegue fazer esquecer tudo. Bem, por uns momentos sim. E dai?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O resto do tempo acordo assustado, tenso, quase gritando!&lt;br /&gt;Não quer mais sentir isso , caralho que merda! Chega de ser idiota Antonio. Não to ganhando nada com isso sabe, pra que insisto nisso?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não queria empurrar precipício abaixo o que sinto, mas pelo jeito é a única maneira de conseguir esquecer isso. Nao quis fazer isso por que acredito que sentindo isso ainda consigo demonstrar o valor dos sentimentos. Mas não deu resultados antes, foi provado que hoje tb não dá. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho q o erro foi acreditar com força que amar fosse o suficiente. Cliche, porem verdade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguém me ajuda a esquecer, pelo amor de Deus!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383011401139516398-2672848769757660456?l=acidbite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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