<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?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" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ACR344fyp7ImA9WhRWF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238</id><updated>2012-01-05T18:36:06.037-02:00</updated><title>Idéias Ébrias</title><subtitle type="html">"Escrevo com sangue, e a melhor verdade é uma verdade sangrenta"... "A felicidade nada mais é que o sentimento de potência, o poder em potência, a própria potência..."(Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche(1844 - 1900))</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</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/Idiasbrias" /><feedburner:info uri="idiasbrias" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MER3s5fSp7ImA9WhRWF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-412497283329272421</id><published>2012-01-05T18:30:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T18:30:06.525-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-05T18:30:06.525-02:00</app:edited><title>RECOMEÇAR</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/412497283329272421/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=412497283329272421&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/412497283329272421?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/412497283329272421?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/mnSeywSLx2U/recomecar_05.html" title="RECOMEÇAR" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Não importa onde você parou… 
em que momento da vida você cansou… 
o que importa é que sempre é possível e 
necessário “Recomeçar”. Recomeçar é dar uma nova chance a si mesmo… 
é renovar as esperanças na vida e o mais importante… 
acreditar em você de novo. 
Sofreu muito nesse período? 
foi aprendizado… 
Chorou muito? 
foi limpeza da alma… 
Ficou com raiva das pessoas? 
foi para perdoá-las um dia
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7gpNfD2oEmSyf_Yn1StKMiQLfZI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7gpNfD2oEmSyf_Yn1StKMiQLfZI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7gpNfD2oEmSyf_Yn1StKMiQLfZI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7gpNfD2oEmSyf_Yn1StKMiQLfZI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/mnSeywSLx2U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2012/01/recomecar_05.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQCQHczeSp7ImA9WhZXEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-3079129969662613407</id><published>2011-04-30T11:49:00.013-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T12:29:21.981-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-30T12:29:21.981-03:00</app:edited><title>Vida!!!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/3079129969662613407/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=3079129969662613407&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/3079129969662613407?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/3079129969662613407?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/y10oyaOXrvs/blog-post.html" title="Vida!!!" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5G26MacjXvY/TbwpGIM-OpI/AAAAAAAAAOs/dNHIUtzXXDY/s72-c/image001.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uMOPFmnP18c9WM_nVyATY_4ZJms/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uMOPFmnP18c9WM_nVyATY_4ZJms/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uMOPFmnP18c9WM_nVyATY_4ZJms/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uMOPFmnP18c9WM_nVyATY_4ZJms/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/y10oyaOXrvs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMMSXc8fyp7ImA9WhZQF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-6940634276794286056</id><published>2011-04-25T22:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T22:48:08.977-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-25T22:48:08.977-03:00</app:edited><title>Alice</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/6940634276794286056/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=6940634276794286056&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/6940634276794286056?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/6940634276794286056?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/CdwhG0O1zwU/alice.html" title="Alice" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Brisas do mar, cheirinho de sol  Queimando na praia, deixa o lençol  Largado na cama, segunda  preguiçosa  Amanhece dormindo, brincando graciosa  Divertindo-se em esplêndido berço  Sorrindo do dia um terço  Nascida para o dia brilhar  Abelhinha, favo de mel  Linda, pequenina, encanto do céu  Inteligente menina, brincando de carrossel  Caindo, levantando, engatinhando, rasgando papel  Esticando-se
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rn3JGFlMdc65yzJ_D0YOURTMbk8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rn3JGFlMdc65yzJ_D0YOURTMbk8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rn3JGFlMdc65yzJ_D0YOURTMbk8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rn3JGFlMdc65yzJ_D0YOURTMbk8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/CdwhG0O1zwU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2011/04/alice.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQGSX0_cCp7ImA9Wx9QFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-8891190312337725120</id><published>2010-12-29T12:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T12:25:28.348-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-29T12:25:28.348-03:00</app:edited><title>Mais uma etapa, e que venha 2011!!!!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/8891190312337725120/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=8891190312337725120&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/8891190312337725120?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/8891190312337725120?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/TEbKSiNXl6Q/mais-uma-etapa-e-que-venha-2011.html" title="Mais uma etapa, e que venha 2011!!!!" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Por Fernando PessoaSempre é preciso saber quando uma etapa chega ao final.Se insistirmos em permanecer nela mais do que o tempo necessário, perdemos a alegria e o sentido das outras etapas que precisamos viver.Encerrando ciclos, fechando portas, terminando capítulos.Não importa o nome que damos, o que importa é deixar no passado os momentos da vida que já se acabaram.Foi despedida do trabalho? 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JWt7caNlrkESg0ZuwnbY_7uroS4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JWt7caNlrkESg0ZuwnbY_7uroS4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JWt7caNlrkESg0ZuwnbY_7uroS4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JWt7caNlrkESg0ZuwnbY_7uroS4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/TEbKSiNXl6Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2010/12/mais-uma-etapa-e-que-venha-2011.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4HQ3ozfSp7ImA9Wx9RFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-5953278929401570182</id><published>2010-12-16T11:01:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T11:15:32.485-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-16T11:15:32.485-03:00</app:edited><title>Estar "grávido"</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/5953278929401570182/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=5953278929401570182&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/5953278929401570182?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/5953278929401570182?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/_14sGY4D0ac/estar-gravido.html" title="Estar &quot;grávido&quot;" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Estar "grávido" é se descobrir como o homem vegetal. Não que a paternidade seja ruim, pelo contrário, ela é mágica, é uma dádiva saber que tem um pedacinho de você se desenvolvendo dentro de sua amada, saber que o fruto de um amor tão belo e puro se perpetua e se transforma, gera vida. Ser pai é fabuloso, acompanhar cada momento, a barriguinha da mãe crescendo, o baby se desenvolvendo, a alegria 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0jsWimxbFP5xSC9KvCuUr7JbLCA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0jsWimxbFP5xSC9KvCuUr7JbLCA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0jsWimxbFP5xSC9KvCuUr7JbLCA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0jsWimxbFP5xSC9KvCuUr7JbLCA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/_14sGY4D0ac" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2010/12/estar-gravido.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUASXk5fyp7ImA9Wx9SEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-835353728092380914</id><published>2010-12-01T11:10:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T15:30:48.727-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-01T15:30:48.727-03:00</app:edited><title>Baby on board!!!!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/835353728092380914/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=835353728092380914&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/835353728092380914?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/835353728092380914?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/u6m9wwR6nNg/baby-on-board.html" title="Baby on board!!!!" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Em meio a correria acabei deixando de lado meu blog, mas aqui estou de volta imerso em uma série de pensamentos e transformações. Casado estou e a espera de um baby, e neste contexto aqui estou a ser pai.Engraçado esta situação, pois muitos livros e coisas escritas pela internet falam sobre a sensação de ser mãe, sobre as transformações no corpo da mulher, sobre tudo que se passa na gestação, mas
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/srLvjRdyatdXf0rkzq3A28qLrc4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/srLvjRdyatdXf0rkzq3A28qLrc4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/srLvjRdyatdXf0rkzq3A28qLrc4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/srLvjRdyatdXf0rkzq3A28qLrc4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/u6m9wwR6nNg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2010/12/baby-on-board.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUCQ3k8fip7ImA9Wx5QFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-735112485326130510</id><published>2010-09-02T00:27:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T01:04:22.776-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-02T01:04:22.776-03:00</app:edited><title>Casamento!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/735112485326130510/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=735112485326130510&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/735112485326130510?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/735112485326130510?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/kFw8F0usR6Q/casamento.html" title="Casamento!" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yfI2TrhXjqs
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zXtZXo9BcswQC9BNYFtR7DwDfAY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zXtZXo9BcswQC9BNYFtR7DwDfAY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zXtZXo9BcswQC9BNYFtR7DwDfAY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zXtZXo9BcswQC9BNYFtR7DwDfAY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/kFw8F0usR6Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2010/09/casamento.html</feedburner:origLink><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="enclosure" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~5/8-Qw7Wqrang/video-play.mp4" length="0" type="video/mp4" /><feedburner:origEnclosureLink>http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c7bb361b5c018a04&amp;type=video%2Fmp4</feedburner:origEnclosureLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8NRnkzeyp7ImA9WxFRFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-1003096328411928076</id><published>2010-04-28T18:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T18:41:37.783-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-28T18:41:37.783-03:00</app:edited><title>Mandei pintar a lua</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/1003096328411928076/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=1003096328411928076&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/1003096328411928076?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/1003096328411928076?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/OXQ5mrClhjc/mandei-pintar-lua.html" title="Mandei pintar a lua" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Olha lá fora o que fiz para vocêMandei pintar a lua no céuBem faceira e safada com gosto de melAdocicado pelo teu perfume e com o brilho do teu olharMandei pintar faceira a lua a luarTeus olhos refletidos em meu amor anoitecerMandei pintar o brilho sussurrando com o ventoTe despindo desatento,Cálice de vinho regado, banhado e entornado em vocêMandei pintar a lua, nua, lambida em orgasmoSedenta, 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CENzYb5gNDSF6CB1VKfuwgRADVI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CENzYb5gNDSF6CB1VKfuwgRADVI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/OXQ5mrClhjc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2010/04/mandei-pintar-lua.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQMQH88eCp7ImA9WxFSGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-530128442169009917</id><published>2010-04-20T22:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T22:13:01.170-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-20T22:13:01.170-03:00</app:edited><title /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/530128442169009917/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=530128442169009917&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/530128442169009917?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/530128442169009917?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/IQLChruKkpU/blog-post.html" title="" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Mk0Xy3spiam13eQE0sEptuuCxcQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Mk0Xy3spiam13eQE0sEptuuCxcQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Mk0Xy3spiam13eQE0sEptuuCxcQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Mk0Xy3spiam13eQE0sEptuuCxcQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/IQLChruKkpU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUHQXc9fyp7ImA9WxBXFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-3873961304444564748</id><published>2010-01-27T15:33:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T15:33:50.967-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-27T15:33:50.967-03:00</app:edited><title>Quando o coração que se ama chora</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/3873961304444564748/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=3873961304444564748&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/3873961304444564748?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/3873961304444564748?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/uxLQ7CWjLK0/quando-o-coracao-que-se-ama-chora.html" title="Quando o coração que se ama chora" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Quando o coração que se ama choraCanto o vento e a lua imploraPela gota seca de lágrima que do rosto rolaVazio deserto de encanto, doce marQuando o coração que se ama chora,Meu peito em frangalhos se devoraNoite que para dormir demoraEm claro se passam as horasSono que não vem, vida que se vai diante da escuridãoQuando o coração que se ama choraDói em mim, fere a alma, sangra o coração...
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7vJ6pSyNyGvfwGiPU4qN6v-ZxMI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7vJ6pSyNyGvfwGiPU4qN6v-ZxMI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/uxLQ7CWjLK0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2010/01/quando-o-coracao-que-se-ama-chora.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUDRHs9eyp7ImA9WxNSE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-2530147803673810510</id><published>2009-08-26T22:24:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T22:24:35.563-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-26T22:24:35.563-03:00</app:edited><title>Noite de São João</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/2530147803673810510/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=2530147803673810510&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/2530147803673810510?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/2530147803673810510?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/6cgNdJZcl08/noite-de-sao-joao.html" title="Noite de São João" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Não canso de seus olhinhos olharDoce brilho que “alumeia” a vida inteiraDoce encanto que dança bonitoEm todo canto, faceira a beijarNosso amor “forrozeia” a noite todaCoração que saltita em labirintoMesmo sem eu saber dançarE em meio a musica mudaO único som é o de nosso respirarNossos corpos se enlaçamUm compasso que se descompassamFrenética dança sem dançar...“Quando penso em você, Encho os 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gNFdc0lZFvXAqsi9wjxXg5QLuKc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gNFdc0lZFvXAqsi9wjxXg5QLuKc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/6cgNdJZcl08" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2009/08/noite-de-sao-joao.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYHSXkzeSp7ImA9WxJSF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-8221696187100594210</id><published>2009-05-07T18:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T18:52:18.781-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-07T18:52:18.781-03:00</app:edited><title>Jeito De Mato</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/8221696187100594210/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=8221696187100594210&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/8221696187100594210?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/8221696187100594210?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/J3LMEjefv8c/jeito-de-mato.html" title="Jeito De Mato" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">(Paula Fernandes e Almir Sater)De onde é que vem esses olhos tão tristes?Vem da campina onde o sol se deita.Do regalo de terra que teu dorso ajeita.E dorme serena, no sereno e sonha.De onde é que salta essa voz tão risonha?Da chuva que teima, mas o céu rejeita.Do mato, do medo, da perda tristonha.Mas, que o sol resgata, arde e deleita.Há uma estrada de pedra que passa na fazenda.É teu destino, é 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/95D_OrwJgwJWANJTlzAg_V02_6Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/95D_OrwJgwJWANJTlzAg_V02_6Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/J3LMEjefv8c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2009/05/jeito-de-mato.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MGRnw9eip7ImA9WxJSF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-5642631910965764179</id><published>2009-05-06T20:11:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T19:30:27.262-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-07T19:30:27.262-03:00</app:edited><title>Menina, flor do campo</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/5642631910965764179/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=5642631910965764179&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/5642631910965764179?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/5642631910965764179?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/sZjjbsjUS1U/menina-do-mato.html" title="Menina, flor do campo" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Flor de menina, flor de açucenaDe pele morenaE lábios de amorEm seu olhos me achoEm teus braços me desfaçoMeu desejo se encantouDesabrocha como flor de cactoCachoeiras, rios e riachoBelo riso se formouUm lindo presenteDe fato meninaMeu coração te douMenina, flor do campoO que é que eu faço?Me entrego a este encantoEnlaçado neste laçoMeu coração se amarrouSeu olhinhos brilhantesAbraços 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lL99sL3faVnigcJoZYXARd5eQkY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lL99sL3faVnigcJoZYXARd5eQkY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/sZjjbsjUS1U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2009/05/menina-do-mato.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IGQH88eyp7ImA9WxVaEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-7658159526822475411</id><published>2009-04-07T18:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T18:25:21.173-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-07T18:25:21.173-03:00</app:edited><title>A culpa é sua!!!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/7658159526822475411/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=7658159526822475411&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/7658159526822475411?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/7658159526822475411?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/nkj54sbiZp4/culpa-e-sua.html" title="A culpa é sua!!!" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">A culpa é suaPor essa saudade que estou sentindoO peito bate em desatinoDescompasado sem, saber o que fazerA culpa é suaPor este gostar maior que eu mesmoUma angustia alimentada pela distanciaUma vontade de estar perto que só faz crescerA culpa é suaPor estar assim todo sem jeitoPalpitando dentro do peitoO grito de EU TE AMO!!!!
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VgtcdBbeZ9eQu3Che73Ayj1T92w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VgtcdBbeZ9eQu3Che73Ayj1T92w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/nkj54sbiZp4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2009/04/culpa-e-sua.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkABRn08eip7ImA9WxVWFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-1104225931602188239</id><published>2009-02-26T20:24:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T20:25:57.372-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-26T20:25:57.372-03:00</app:edited><title>A Natureza das Coisas</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/1104225931602188239/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=1104225931602188239&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/1104225931602188239?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/1104225931602188239?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/T64cujghl24/natureza-das-coisas.html" title="A Natureza das Coisas" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Oh! chá lá lá lá lá lá láOh! chá lá lá lá lá lá láOh! chá lá lá lá lá lá láOh! coisa boa é namorarSe avexe nãoAmanhã pode acontecer tudoInclusive nadaSe avexe nãoA lagarta rasteja até o diaEm que cria asasSe avexe nãoQue a burrinha da felicidadeNunca se atrasaSe avexe nãoAmanhã ela pára na portaDa sua casaSe avexe nãoToda caminhada começaNo primeiro passoA natureza não tem pressaSegue seu 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/prlKhk0uYAOaJHxHAw0Sk1Kv42U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/prlKhk0uYAOaJHxHAw0Sk1Kv42U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/T64cujghl24" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2009/02/natureza-das-coisas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMHRHc4fSp7ImA9WxVXEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-8703998743448421512</id><published>2009-02-08T16:11:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T16:13:55.935-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-08T16:13:55.935-03:00</app:edited><title>Em Capela, a saudade</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/8703998743448421512/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=8703998743448421512&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/8703998743448421512?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/8703998743448421512?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/l_na8ON675s/em-capela-saudade.html" title="Em Capela, a saudade" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Na restinga da vida,Mata, com foice adentroEita estrada cumprida,Distancia que nos separa do alentoSaudade latente , peito abertoNa velocidade descompassada, Da paisagem nada vejo, desatentoDesejo apenas o beijo quente, teu corpo pertoO fogo da paixão, saudade desenfreada.Quando para alguns falo meu alentoDesse doce viajar aos fins de semanaPerguntam se virarei padre ou santo do Papa BentoMas a 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/amoFUNuTQu8KUYK0zZZNBmjEclc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/amoFUNuTQu8KUYK0zZZNBmjEclc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/l_na8ON675s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2009/02/em-capela-saudade.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcERns4eip7ImA9WxVSEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-5421363816279114417</id><published>2009-01-04T18:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T18:53:27.532-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-04T18:53:27.532-03:00</app:edited><title>Apenas uma oração...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/5421363816279114417/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=5421363816279114417&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/5421363816279114417?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/5421363816279114417?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/ZnAyZ9Pl2Y0/apenas-uma-orao.html" title="Apenas uma oração..." /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Como diria o eterno Fernando Pessoa: "Amo como ama o amor. Não conheço nenhuma outra razão para amar senão amar. Que queres que te diga, além de que te amo, se o que quero dizer-te é que te amo?". Olhando para trás vejo cinco anos passados, uma história contada de forma simples por um "proseador" sertanejo que sentado está à beira da estrada. Em meio a este repente lírico e profético um momento 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ve1ZQF4J5MJ6AHcyJHfF2ae-Cpk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ve1ZQF4J5MJ6AHcyJHfF2ae-Cpk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/ZnAyZ9Pl2Y0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2009/01/apenas-uma-orao.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4CQH47fyp7ImA9WxRUF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-4672088357892836829</id><published>2008-11-26T17:20:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T17:22:41.007-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-26T17:22:41.007-03:00</app:edited><title>Cada amanhaecer</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/4672088357892836829/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=4672088357892836829&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/4672088357892836829?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/4672088357892836829?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/-jp6KL1AluA/cada-amanhaecer.html" title="Cada amanhaecer" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">Cada amanhaecer é um morrerPara o mundo e entregue em teus braçosO espreguiçar de um pássaro manhoso chamado amorEntre caricias e gozo, beijos e amaçoRenascer das cinzas e contigo terCada amanhecer é um novo diaRenovação de votos juradosViver a dois, como um, a vida desafiaA juntos estarmos apaixonadosCada amanhecer é morrer por dentroViver é uma questão de sorrirDesfazer as rugas da testa e por 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rGQa92F4HNZbUIV-YBRDcCctGGY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rGQa92F4HNZbUIV-YBRDcCctGGY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/-jp6KL1AluA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2008/11/cada-amanhaecer.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUNQHg7fip7ImA9WxRWEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-2139933151582009511</id><published>2008-10-26T10:12:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T10:21:31.606-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-26T10:21:31.606-03:00</app:edited><title>Retorno ébrio</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/2139933151582009511/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=2139933151582009511&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/2139933151582009511?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/2139933151582009511?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/3-NyF9blyko/retorno-brio.html" title="Retorno ébrio" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Após um periodo de quarentena, retorno ao vinho, transborda o cáliceInunda a vida a vontade de escreverA inspiração renova-se a cada amanhecerMeus versos já não são os mesmosPois intenso é o respirar, o desejo do porvirFoi culpa da lua este destino, do amor o ápiceO delicioso bailar ao ouvir "Não se aveche não que amanhã pode acontecer tudo inclusive nada..."Retorno ao vinho, cresce o amor, 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/88X3sH_9A0LDRY_rJI1Z2hK6Pz8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/88X3sH_9A0LDRY_rJI1Z2hK6Pz8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/3-NyF9blyko" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2008/10/retorno-brio.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQBSH89eSp7ImA9WxdaFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-4156049074733779283</id><published>2008-08-24T10:51:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T10:59:19.161-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-24T10:59:19.161-03:00</app:edited><title>Não Quero</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/4156049074733779283/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=4156049074733779283&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/4156049074733779283?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/4156049074733779283?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/4QlySHBTLL8/no-quero.html" title="Não Quero" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">Mário Quintana Não quero alguém que morra de amor por mim... Só preciso de alguém que viva por mim, que queira estar junto de mim, me abraçando. Não exijo que esse alguém me ame como eu o amo, quero apenas que me ame, não me importando com que intensidade. Não tenho a pretensão de que todas as pessoas que gosto, gostem de mim... Nem que eu faça a falta que elas me fazem, o importante pra mim é 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j01n_YEFqn0PzHwIxCCxKu9AaDU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j01n_YEFqn0PzHwIxCCxKu9AaDU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j01n_YEFqn0PzHwIxCCxKu9AaDU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j01n_YEFqn0PzHwIxCCxKu9AaDU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/4QlySHBTLL8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-quero.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEHQHczfip7ImA9WxdWGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-8256987863537348420</id><published>2008-07-12T20:34:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T20:50:31.986-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-12T20:50:31.986-03:00</app:edited><title>A Lei do Eterno Retorno</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/8256987863537348420/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=8256987863537348420&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/8256987863537348420?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/8256987863537348420?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/bfyblZAtuF0/lei-do-eterno-retorno.html" title="A Lei do Eterno Retorno" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Estava lendo o blog de uma amiga, onde ela fala sobre como "as coisas mal resolvidas do passado acabam voltando no presente para te cobrar atitudes ou ações que não foram tomadas outrora". (leia também: http://perolascotidianas08.blogspot.com/)A leitura de hoje me remeteu a um texto antigo sobre a Lei do Eterno Retorno proposta por Nietzsche:"Esta vida, assim como tu vives agora e como a viveste,
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nf9GHL4_340Nr8RLqWRBkVCjjEI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nf9GHL4_340Nr8RLqWRBkVCjjEI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nf9GHL4_340Nr8RLqWRBkVCjjEI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nf9GHL4_340Nr8RLqWRBkVCjjEI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/bfyblZAtuF0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2008/07/lei-do-eterno-retorno.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkENQXw4fyp7ImA9WxdXEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-4694249977382042288</id><published>2008-06-23T12:56:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T13:31:30.237-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-06-23T13:31:30.237-03:00</app:edited><title>Don't know why...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/4694249977382042288/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=4694249977382042288&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/4694249977382042288?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/4694249977382042288?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/4ZOxgxCvWzU/dont-know-why.html" title="Don't know why..." /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">Não sei por quê...As noites de frio tem um ar especialRara beleza do desejo do não amanhecerAinda que o sol bata nas janelas de nossas vidasAinda assim, as noites frias tem um gosto especial...Regadas a vinho então... Sobrenatural...As belas formas da lua em seu solstício aparecer“Neblinadas” formas, páginas vívidas.Não sei por quê...As pétalas das flores caem ao outonoO ciclo da vida tem formas 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Df6KMmKfLT-W1i9Sa5iEdW_XKYY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Df6KMmKfLT-W1i9Sa5iEdW_XKYY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Df6KMmKfLT-W1i9Sa5iEdW_XKYY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Df6KMmKfLT-W1i9Sa5iEdW_XKYY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/4ZOxgxCvWzU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2008/06/dont-know-why.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04NQ3gyeCp7ImA9WxZXGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-9117930119095479620</id><published>2008-03-07T18:38:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T18:39:52.690-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-03-07T18:39:52.690-03:00</app:edited><title>"Ouvir o Inaudível"...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/9117930119095479620/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=9117930119095479620&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/9117930119095479620?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/9117930119095479620?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/NyydFWFzDr8/ouvir-o-inaudvel.html" title="&quot;Ouvir o Inaudível&quot;..." /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">OS SONS DA FLORESTANo século III d.C., o rei Ts’ao mandou seu filho, o príncipe T’ai, ir estudar no templo com o grande mestre Pan Ku. O objetivo era preparar o príncipe, que iria suceder ao pai no trono, para ser um grande rei. Quando o príncipe chegou ao templo, o mestre Pan Ku logo o mandou, sozinho, à floresta de Ming-Li. Ele deveria voltar um ano depois, com a tarefa de descrever os sons da 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hOd_B1eCcPoKOR3QYW9_Ilx3Org/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hOd_B1eCcPoKOR3QYW9_Ilx3Org/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/NyydFWFzDr8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2008/03/ouvir-o-inaudvel.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cCSXw4eSp7ImA9WxZREkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-6577622407704615366</id><published>2008-02-05T18:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T08:57:48.231-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-06T08:57:48.231-03:00</app:edited><title>Sobre políticos e administradores</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/6577622407704615366/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=6577622407704615366&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/6577622407704615366?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/6577622407704615366?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/VohUd6NwNNw/sobre-polticos-e-administradores.html" title="Sobre políticos e administradores" /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Texto escrito na Comunidade "Administrador para presidente" no Orkut...Concordo com Veríssimo em entrevista a Caros Amigos que perguntado se compartilha da opinião quase unânime de que o presidente Lula é analfabeto e precisaler, respondeu que:"Olha, com algumas exceções, como o Costa e Silva, que confundia latrocínio comlaticínio, fomos sempre governados por homens letrados, muitos deles 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/e8uUxABvsgAmk1PDgzWzoVSGQj8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/e8uUxABvsgAmk1PDgzWzoVSGQj8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/e8uUxABvsgAmk1PDgzWzoVSGQj8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/e8uUxABvsgAmk1PDgzWzoVSGQj8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/VohUd6NwNNw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2008/02/sobre-polticos-e-administradores.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQERHw8eip7ImA9WB9REk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31119238.post-2498939996219145562</id><published>2007-10-12T20:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T20:38:25.272-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2007-10-12T20:38:25.272-03:00</app:edited><title>Pensamento sobre "vontade de poder"...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/feeds/2498939996219145562/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31119238&amp;postID=2498939996219145562&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/2498939996219145562?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31119238/posts/default/2498939996219145562?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~3/gZJV6upPU9E/pensamento-sobre-vontade-de-poder.html" title="Pensamento sobre &quot;vontade de poder&quot;..." /><author><name>Vital Souza</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V9XW1UxWA00/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAARg/IGrfekgxXV4/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Vontade de Poder não está desta forma relacionada a nenhum tipo de força física, dinâmica ou outra, mas é a lei originária que regem estas forças secundárias na economia deste sistema chamado universo, ou mundo. As definições e formas são secundárias a ela, por isso Nietzsche diz tentando aclarar ao extremo: “o mundo é a vontade de potência — e nada além disso!” E por isso ainda insiste e 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nhsu-7YMlvBZgbbhzHPpQN07m2U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nhsu-7YMlvBZgbbhzHPpQN07m2U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Idiasbrias/~4/gZJV6upPU9E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://ideiasebrias.blogspot.com/2007/10/pensamento-sobre-vontade-de-poder.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

