<?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;DUICR3o4eCp7ImA9WhRWGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093066980439263179</id><updated>2012-01-08T02:39:26.430-02:00</updated><title>Lá fora a realidade pinta quadros abstratos</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/" /><author><name>Dannie.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04666028973354662651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="19" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EPHA2W0zKf0/TA6OtESUFXI/AAAAAAAAAPM/4ssw8HYMQ4g/S220/PICT0315-edit.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</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/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos" /><feedburner:info uri="lforaarealidadepintaquadrosabstratos" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUICR3o4fCp7ImA9WhRWGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093066980439263179.post-1259874074184997633</id><published>2011-12-24T05:39:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T02:39:26.434-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T02:39:26.434-02:00</app:edited><title>Nothing left to say</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/feeds/1259874074184997633/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093066980439263179&amp;postID=1259874074184997633&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/1259874074184997633?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/1259874074184997633?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~3/eJMmpFojbJs/nothing-left-to-say.html" title="Nothing left to say" /><author><name>Dannie.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04666028973354662651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="19" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EPHA2W0zKf0/TA6OtESUFXI/AAAAAAAAAPM/4ssw8HYMQ4g/S220/PICT0315-edit.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Provavelmente fiquei esperando por algo que nunca irá acontecer.
Esse é o problema maior com a maioria das pessoas:
Se não são cheias de merda pra acompanhar, são cheias de merda pra acompanhar.
É o caso do ex-namorado, é a bebida, é a organização, não importa.

Por muito tempo fiquei esperando uma resposta, um convite, qualquer merda,
que fizesse valer a porra de vida que tem acontecido.
A 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YKicqQNONvIXeZRiGa4zOTaNeto/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YKicqQNONvIXeZRiGa4zOTaNeto/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/YKicqQNONvIXeZRiGa4zOTaNeto/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YKicqQNONvIXeZRiGa4zOTaNeto/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~4/eJMmpFojbJs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/2011/12/nothing-left-to-say.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEACRnY-eyp7ImA9WhRRGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093066980439263179.post-6408372325559227467</id><published>2011-12-02T05:46:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T14:19:27.853-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-02T14:19:27.853-02:00</app:edited><title>Marcelinho 05h09min</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/feeds/6408372325559227467/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093066980439263179&amp;postID=6408372325559227467&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/6408372325559227467?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/6408372325559227467?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~3/5APu5uTXyNs/marcelinho-05h09min.html" title="Marcelinho 05h09min" /><author><name>Dannie.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04666028973354662651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="19" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EPHA2W0zKf0/TA6OtESUFXI/AAAAAAAAAPM/4ssw8HYMQ4g/S220/PICT0315-edit.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Eu trabalhava como porteiro, segurança ou qualquer coisa que necessitasse em um bar todas as noites e recebia pouco. Às vezes menos do que eu esperava, mas normalmente pouco. Tinha um desses caras que vigiam carros e que era amigo dos donos do bar.

- Porra, cara, essa falta de sexo deixa o cara doido – Disse o homem

- Claro - Eu disse.

- Eu to há sete anos sem comer ninguém, desde que fui 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/K5oDF619BzcbBzq6SnGJ_-Q4CL4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/K5oDF619BzcbBzq6SnGJ_-Q4CL4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/K5oDF619BzcbBzq6SnGJ_-Q4CL4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/K5oDF619BzcbBzq6SnGJ_-Q4CL4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~4/5APu5uTXyNs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/2011/12/marcelinho-05h09min.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EAQn8_eSp7ImA9WhRSEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093066980439263179.post-472500367995704808</id><published>2011-11-12T12:52:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T12:54:03.141-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-12T12:54:03.141-02:00</app:edited><title>Zelig (04h28min)</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/feeds/472500367995704808/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093066980439263179&amp;postID=472500367995704808&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/472500367995704808?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/472500367995704808?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~3/ch_vfZOWSHU/zelig-04h28min.html" title="Zelig (04h28min)" /><author><name>Dannie.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04666028973354662651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="19" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EPHA2W0zKf0/TA6OtESUFXI/AAAAAAAAAPM/4ssw8HYMQ4g/S220/PICT0315-edit.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">todas essas garotas nos seus vestidos apertados
com seus batons
e cabelos falsos
e com salto alto e maquiagem
andando pra cima e pra baixo na rua
rindo e cantando
segurando braço de homens
homens que não são nada além de garotos pelo modo e agir

todos eles parecem os mesmos
idiotas fabricados em série
superficiais
que andam nas ruas como se as 
suas vidas estivessem completamente resolvidas
e 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNeIqYF_Ry8ZRuCx2d75ug9gCRQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNeIqYF_Ry8ZRuCx2d75ug9gCRQ/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/dNeIqYF_Ry8ZRuCx2d75ug9gCRQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNeIqYF_Ry8ZRuCx2d75ug9gCRQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~4/ch_vfZOWSHU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/2011/11/zelig-04h28min.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ACRnk8eCp7ImA9WhdXE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093066980439263179.post-414341717371253519</id><published>2011-08-25T23:22:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T23:29:27.770-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-25T23:29:27.770-03:00</app:edited><title /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/feeds/414341717371253519/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093066980439263179&amp;postID=414341717371253519&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/414341717371253519?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/414341717371253519?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~3/HCaejjITvCI/quando-eu-era-mais-novo-tinha-essa.html" title="" /><author><name>Dannie.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04666028973354662651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="19" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EPHA2W0zKf0/TA6OtESUFXI/AAAAAAAAAPM/4ssw8HYMQ4g/S220/PICT0315-edit.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Quando eu era mais novo, 
tinha essa sensação de que algum dia, 
alguém iria preencher esse buraco que sinto, por assim dizer, dentro de mim.
Parei de acreditar nisso.
Tem pessoas que suprem certa carência, 
mas é como substituir um vício por outro:
O problema ainda ta lá, tu só não descobriu.
Nunca estive sozinho por muito tempo, 
sempre aparecia alguém ou eu esquecia de tudo afogando esse 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WxAf4zyzSvY39KhCJzB3_gqiVsI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WxAf4zyzSvY39KhCJzB3_gqiVsI/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/WxAf4zyzSvY39KhCJzB3_gqiVsI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WxAf4zyzSvY39KhCJzB3_gqiVsI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~4/HCaejjITvCI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/2011/08/quando-eu-era-mais-novo-tinha-essa.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8FQXs-eip7ImA9WhdTF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093066980439263179.post-6886155005681828794</id><published>2011-07-15T02:13:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T02:13:30.552-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-15T02:13:30.552-03:00</app:edited><title /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/feeds/6886155005681828794/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093066980439263179&amp;postID=6886155005681828794&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/6886155005681828794?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/6886155005681828794?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~3/_XZMX_9ps3k/nos-ultimos-dias-tenho-passado-essa.html" title="" /><author><name>Dannie.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04666028973354662651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="19" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EPHA2W0zKf0/TA6OtESUFXI/AAAAAAAAAPM/4ssw8HYMQ4g/S220/PICT0315-edit.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Nos últimos dias tenho passado essa vontade 
Absurda 
De desistir de tudo como sempre fiz. 
Esse mal incrível de não conseguir chegar ao fim do que começo. 
Minha vontade era de que qualquer coisa 
Acontecesse comigo que me tirasse daqui, 
Que me mandasse pra outro lugar.
Mentalmente ou fisicamente, 
Não me importaria.

Eu queria nessas horas pensar em como sair
Em como fugir
Como fazer qualquer 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/X4gxNQ8cVGnNzyJmT7_VAaTOniI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/X4gxNQ8cVGnNzyJmT7_VAaTOniI/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/X4gxNQ8cVGnNzyJmT7_VAaTOniI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/X4gxNQ8cVGnNzyJmT7_VAaTOniI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~4/_XZMX_9ps3k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/2011/07/nos-ultimos-dias-tenho-passado-essa.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMNQ3k8eCp7ImA9WhZWE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093066980439263179.post-6039443428986424958</id><published>2011-05-14T06:56:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T07:04:52.770-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-14T07:04:52.770-03:00</app:edited><title /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/feeds/6039443428986424958/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093066980439263179&amp;postID=6039443428986424958&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/6039443428986424958?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/6039443428986424958?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~3/VHUvbrEdLQM/e-tanto-vazio-que-quanto-mais-se-anda.html" title="" /><author><name>Dannie.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04666028973354662651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="19" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EPHA2W0zKf0/TA6OtESUFXI/AAAAAAAAAPM/4ssw8HYMQ4g/S220/PICT0315-edit.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">é tanto vazio que quanto mais se anda
quanto mais se procura
menos encontra.

cigarro, bebida, mulheres...
não há um bar ou prostituta que valha o abraço de quem se quer por perto.

e substituir por qualquer coisas 
só transforma em um conforto momentâneo, é o êxtase monocórdio.
queima, arde, faz viver e apaga.
quando vai embora, é como o cheiro de cigarro recém-apagado no meio da madrugada.


&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D_wd_0jlPPYw2j0U3iRw5krB2VM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D_wd_0jlPPYw2j0U3iRw5krB2VM/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/D_wd_0jlPPYw2j0U3iRw5krB2VM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D_wd_0jlPPYw2j0U3iRw5krB2VM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~4/VHUvbrEdLQM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/2011/05/e-tanto-vazio-que-quanto-mais-se-anda.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4BSX48eCp7ImA9Wx9aFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093066980439263179.post-7715256714720727987</id><published>2011-03-08T05:18:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T01:12:38.070-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-09T01:12:38.070-03:00</app:edited><title /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://spleenandcigars.blogspot.com/feeds/7715256714720727987/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093066980439263179&amp;postID=7715256714720727987&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/7715256714720727987?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093066980439263179/posts/default/7715256714720727987?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LForaARealidadePintaQuadrosAbstratos/~3/CDCX43MxHfs/eu-pensava-estar-pronto-pra-escrever.html" title="" /><author><name>Dannie.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04666028973354662651</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="31" height="19" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EPHA2W0zKf0/TA6OtESUFXI/AAAAAAAAAPM/4ssw8HYMQ4g/S220/PICT0315-edit.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Eu pensava estar pronto pra escrever.    
Nunca estive.     
Ainda to no meio do caminho pra esse monte de coisas.     
Eu sento, no quarto escuro, com o cigarro queimando e a música, mas não é suficiente.Enquanto todo o mundo se mata lá fora, com pessoas lutando por um resto de cigarro apagado na areia, eu sento e aperto essas teclas.    
Aperto forte.     
Eu mudo de cidade     
Eu bebo.Acordo 
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