<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/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;A0YCQ3ozfSp7ImA9WhRbF0k.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750</id><updated>2012-02-08T16:59:22.485-08:00</updated><title>Nathifa</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default?redirect=false&amp;v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>286</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;C08AQ3Y9cSp7ImA9WhRbFk4.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-3224872514348690151</id><published>2012-02-07T08:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T08:24:02.869-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-02-07T08:24:02.869-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Esa historia no me tocaba... pero yo la toqué (y no me arrepiento). Acepto el miedo con voluntad, eso es valentía: actuar de todos modos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;A esta realidad, le hacen falta más ficciones (como en los inicios).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y... puede que no tengamos todo junto, pero juntos... lo tenemos todo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tal vez no pueda darte lo mejor del mundo... pero puedo darte, lo mejor de mi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No erro si digo que mi mejor obra... ha sido pintarte una sonrisa.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El problema ahora no es lo que siento por ti... es lo que no siento, por nadie más que por ti; y lo lejos no está en la distancia... sino el silencio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Hace mucho ruido tu silencio, está tan presente tu ausencia... es muy cercana tu distancia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-3224872514348690151?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/3224872514348690151/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/02/esa-historia-no-me-tocaba.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/3224872514348690151?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/3224872514348690151?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/02/esa-historia-no-me-tocaba.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CUUFQHs9fyp7ImA9WhRbFUs.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-3511584445206516117</id><published>2012-02-06T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T13:20:11.567-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-02-06T13:20:11.567-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Sufrimiento conseguido, +1.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-3511584445206516117?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/3511584445206516117/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/02/sufrimiento-conseguido-1.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/3511584445206516117?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/3511584445206516117?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/02/sufrimiento-conseguido-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;Ak8GSXsyfip7ImA9WhRbFEo.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-8386287481051855425</id><published>2012-02-05T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T13:53:48.596-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-02-05T13:53:48.596-08:00</app:edited><title>I won't give up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/E9vYAMXXTNY?fs=1" width="459"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily&lt;br /&gt;I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make&lt;br /&gt;Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use&lt;br /&gt;The tools and gifts we got yeah, we got a lot at stake&lt;br /&gt;And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend&lt;br /&gt;For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn&lt;br /&gt;We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in&lt;br /&gt;I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not&lt;br /&gt;And who I am&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-8386287481051855425?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/8386287481051855425/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-wont-give-up.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/8386287481051855425?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/8386287481051855425?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-wont-give-up.html' title='I won&apos;t give up'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/E9vYAMXXTNY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;AkYCQHs8cCp7ImA9WhRbFEo.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-4142975198024690611</id><published>2012-02-05T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T13:42:41.578-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-02-05T13:42:41.578-08:00</app:edited><title>No me importan los obstáculos, mi objetivo eres tú.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Hoy me ha sido más fácil sonreír que decir por qué estoy compungida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonreír no significa que siempre esté feliz, sino que soy fuerte; mi talón de Aquiles lo exterioricé anoche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colisionando contra el muro, a diez mil kilómetros por hora, sin pararme a pensar, se cumplió el dolo. Dolo sin premeditación, consecuente del miedo que tanto me oprime y no me deja disfrutar de ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hay más que eso, miedo a la revolución de sentimientos que acontece y yo me veo involucrada hasta el precipicio y desde el principio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si chocar duele, más duele el llanto frustrado y lo no conversado. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miedo de volver a despojarme del chaleco anti-balas, miedo de que actúes en mis sueños, miedo de saber que puedes hacer que el agua surque mi lagrimal con sólo quitarme la palabra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando dormía, tu mirada iluminaba mi condena. Siento tanto miedo cuando estás cerca... mi salida es evadirlo, de cualquiera de las formas que estén a mi alcance. Sólo cuando mi mente no está en sus cabales, ese miedo se esfuma, y me deja libre de sopesar. Es en ese momento, cuando ya no controlas tus sentidos y ya no puedes ir atrás; Ese es el momento, en el que te das cuenta de que has hecho el imbécil. Delante mía se cierne quien pinta con caricias mis sonrisas; y la duda vuelve a encarcelarme. Y me libero con la peor de las fórmulas.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Intento alejarme, a sabiendas del deseo que llevo dentro; intento no sentir, a sabiendas de que eso ya es tan imposible como olvidar el mejor de tus recuerdos. Errar es de humanos, y más cuando no usan la razón, y no escuchan a su instinto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sólo si de verdad sientes lo que yo, tolerarás cada error que cometa, y me tratarás bien cuando yo no lo haga. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En silencio,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;grito sin voz,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;despierta e imperfecta,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;me siento aire en una bombona atrapada. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si como dejo claro en este escrito, mi objetivo eres tú, el miedo ha de irse ya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estos treinta y seis días han extenuado mis fuerzas de protección, así es que, tú decides, ¿querer o no querer?; yo acabo de elegir.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;
No volveré a quererte de nuevo a escondidas.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/8917372341970598750-4142975198024690611?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/4142975198024690611/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/02/no-me-importan-los-obstaculos-mi.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/4142975198024690611?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/4142975198024690611?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/02/no-me-importan-los-obstaculos-mi.html' title='No me importan los obstáculos, mi objetivo eres tú.'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DUEMRXw-fyp7ImA9WhRbEk0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-7117356431556694895</id><published>2012-02-02T01:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T10:34:44.257-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-02-02T10:34:44.257-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;title&gt;Tumblr on we heart it / visual bookmark #22153883&lt;/title&gt;

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&lt;span style="background-color: transparent;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Dream as if you'll live forever, live as if you'll die today.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Dos velas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tan solo dos llamas iluminaban la ciudad aquella noche.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Todas las luces de Nueva York habían muerto para dejarnos vivir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;-102-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Número de planta del Empire State en la que nos encontrábamos sentados uno en frente del otro; nuestras miradas surcaban los poros de nuestra piel y flechaban mi garganta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Podía vislumbrar las ténues fisuras de tus labios cerrados y el resplandor de tus pupilas dilatadas observando aquel instante.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Acabábamos de degustar ese solomillo con foie que sólo tú cocinabas para mí.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;El postre acechaba, y no quería que el tiempo se moviese ni un ápice de sus manillas.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Compartimos una porción de tarta de queso y llegó el momento de brindar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;No sabíamos qué decir, pues... tantas cosas nos faltaban por contarnos, que no teníamos prisa.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Mis palabras se censuraron apresuradamente y tú te levantaste, acercándote con delicadeza para rozar mi cuello con aquella copa fría de cristal vaporoso.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Unas gotas de agua se derramaron de ella, surcando la caída de mi cuello y llegando hasta el vestido...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V-ieQajvsBM/TynQebMYyEI/AAAAAAAAAyU/KEXnTeWIkNE/s1600/tumblr_ly7n6kwVak1qj7wmwo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V-ieQajvsBM/TynQebMYyEI/AAAAAAAAAyU/KEXnTeWIkNE/s640/tumblr_ly7n6kwVak1qj7wmwo1_500_large.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Miré fijamente las velas, y de un soplo todo quedó eclipsado.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Me cogiste de la mano, y entrelazadas, las posamos sobre el balcón; tu brazo rodeando mi cintura, alzando la vista sin ver; sólo imaginábamos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Aún con las copas en la mano, decidí brindar de una vez, y en ese momento dije lo que ansiaba:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;- brindemos por todas las cosas que no nos hemos dicho y que nos quedan por decir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Así fue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/eM_IlwffqaM/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eM_IlwffqaM&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;

&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;

&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eM_IlwffqaM&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Some people made a lifetime for a moment like this...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Bebí de tu copa y tú de la mía; no sé si pudiste vislumbrar mi sonrisa: los labios se abrieron como cuando florece una rosa mojada en primavera.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Me cogiste por la espalda y susurraste a mi oído:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;- imagina que nunca nos hubiésemos conocido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;A lo que yo contesté:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;- entonces puede que nunca hubiese hecho lo que voy a hacer ahora mismo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-3743302518781259837?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/3743302518781259837/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/02/toutes-les-choses-quon-ne-sest-pas-dit.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/3743302518781259837?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/3743302518781259837?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/02/toutes-les-choses-quon-ne-sest-pas-dit.html' title='Toutes les choses qu&apos;on ne s&apos;est pas dites'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V-ieQajvsBM/TynQebMYyEI/AAAAAAAAAyU/KEXnTeWIkNE/s72-c/tumblr_ly7n6kwVak1qj7wmwo1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEQGQ3kyeSp7ImA9WhRbEE4.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-5305234980604398163</id><published>2012-01-31T10:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T10:58:42.791-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-31T10:58:42.791-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;"&gt;What's the point of being alive if you don't at least try to do something REMARKABLE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-5305234980604398163?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/5305234980604398163/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/whats-point-of-being-alive-if-you-dont.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/5305234980604398163?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/5305234980604398163?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/whats-point-of-being-alive-if-you-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;C0IFSH08fSp7ImA9WhRUGUo.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-1038192944748696300</id><published>2012-01-30T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T16:58:39.375-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-30T16:58:39.375-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Skinny girl...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/glCyc7VkDSM/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/glCyc7VkDSM&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;




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&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/glCyc7VkDSM&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Es incómodo a veces, cuando percibes que te ven como un trozo de carne recién salido del asador. No es necesario que te des la vuelta para saber que sus miradas van siempre direccionadas hacia los mismos lugares de tu silhueta.&lt;br /&gt;
Subes las escaleras y ahí están, acechándote como si fueras una presa.&lt;br /&gt;
No hacen falta escotes, ni pantalones ajustados, su imaginación ya vagabundea por sí sola hasta que sobrepasan el límite y tu instinto dice -basta-.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's my body, and y don't care what they think about him; but, instead, the person what i'm interest of, always tells to me that i'm so skinny and must to gain weight. It's not easy, 'cause i always have been like i am, skinny or not, i eat and do sport all time; it's my hobby, like travel. I'm very active and have to do wide variety of activities all time. If i'm doing nothing in movement in a day, i feel worried, except when i read, listen music, watch TV... We have time for everything we want.&lt;br /&gt;
And i don't stop. It's my philosophy of life, don't stop even i have to sleep i prefer to continue finishing what i was doing before going to bed.&lt;br /&gt;
Love pass my time sporting, chatting with friends drinking beers and walking on the street.&lt;br /&gt;
Dancing on the discotheque, at home or anywhere like a crazy happy adolescent.&lt;br /&gt;
Climbing lampposts and doing everything who arrives on my mind...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Never stop smiling, living and laughing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
When i was a child, it was the same. Even if i eat at all times on a current day, my activity doesn't let me change my body.&lt;br /&gt;
There are people on oversize, people on their size and people undersize.&lt;br /&gt;
I consider, in my situation, that i'm on my size.&lt;br /&gt;
My experience everyday, proves to me that i'm attractive for a lot of guys, and they often look my backside with desire...&lt;br /&gt;
It's a question of pleasures isn't it? I don't care...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;I just want he to desire me. And i know he does.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QIMgJZTVMfg/TyczfrukbwI/AAAAAAAAAyE/fKp6q1Y6QVQ/s1600/Captura+de+pantalla+2012-01-31+a+la(s)+00.43.00.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="295" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QIMgJZTVMfg/TyczfrukbwI/AAAAAAAAAyE/fKp6q1Y6QVQ/s400/Captura+de+pantalla+2012-01-31+a+la(s)+00.43.00.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span id="goog_1052339434"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1052339435"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My parents tell me everyday i'm an spaghetti. So, if i look like that, i have a huge self-stime 'cause i'm natural, never doing diets, and having a health life. The importance resides on being you.&lt;br /&gt;
All that words said, i can't change who i'm (because i don't want), and i love how i look.&lt;br /&gt;
Don't look at myself on mirrors more than twice a day, but when i see my person, i think: you're gorgeous.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is what every girl must to think when she looks at herself.&lt;br /&gt;
And what the others say... it's only their opinion, nothing relevant.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Estimate yourself and be proud of all your values is the best you can do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And the person who loves you would love all the parts of your body.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Udkcf_FhdAU/Tyc2T84Gt1I/AAAAAAAAAyM/VQdaDJs3PDk/s1600/Captura+de+pantalla+2012-01-31+a+la(s)+01.26.20.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="257" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Udkcf_FhdAU/Tyc2T84Gt1I/AAAAAAAAAyM/VQdaDJs3PDk/s400/Captura+de+pantalla+2012-01-31+a+la(s)+01.26.20.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-1038192944748696300?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/1038192944748696300/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/skinny-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/1038192944748696300?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/1038192944748696300?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/skinny-girl.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QIMgJZTVMfg/TyczfrukbwI/AAAAAAAAAyE/fKp6q1Y6QVQ/s72-c/Captura+de+pantalla+2012-01-31+a+la(s)+00.43.00.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;C0IFR389cSp7ImA9WhRUGU4.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-2118565947046101077</id><published>2012-01-29T16:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T05:51:56.169-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-30T05:51:56.169-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kwaXnnYfJA8?fs=1" width="459"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"- Puedo ser divertido si quieres, o pensativo, listo o supersticioso, valiente, incluso bailarín.&lt;br /&gt;Seré lo que quieras. Dime lo que quieres y lo seré por ti.&lt;br /&gt;- Eres tonto.&lt;br /&gt;- Lo podría ser"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..."Hay muchas formas de quererse, ¿sabes? Pero la suya era... total. Un amor puro, increíble, alucinante. Un amor especial como hay pocos. Y ellos lo sabían.&lt;br /&gt;Todos los enamorados del mundo creen que su amor es único y distinto, pero el de ellos si lo era. Estaban hechos el uno para el otro, se tenían y deseaban fundirse en uno solo, cuando estaban juntos el tiempo se aceleraba, y cuando estaban separados se hacía eterno. Cada beso, cada caricia, era un puro sentimiento desnudo. Podían pasarse horas mirándose a los ojos y nada más, pero cuando se acariciaban, se besaban... entonces... no hay palabras para describir esa emoción"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..."Daría cualquier cosa por volver a esos momentos, todo a cambio de un segundo juntos, porque cuando todo empieza a ir mal lo único que deseo es volver a tu lado y abrazarte fuerte...&lt;br /&gt;Quiero volver a esos días donde sólo hacía falta una mirada para hacernos sonreír, donde el tiempo pasaba sin que nos diéramos cuenta y todo lo demás no importaba, sólo nosotros. Y quiero hacer de estos días junto a ti momentos que no pueda olvidar jamás...&lt;br /&gt;Tienes esa magia en la mirada que me hace no poder mirar a nadie más, esa magia en los labios que me hace extrañarlos cuando no los puedo besar, esa magia en las manos que al recorrer mi cuerpo y me hacen volar... Y es que no hay nada más mágico que un segundo a tu lado, porque MAGIA eres tú"...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-2118565947046101077?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/2118565947046101077/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post_29.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/2118565947046101077?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/2118565947046101077?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post_29.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/kwaXnnYfJA8/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;C0QNQHg4cSp7ImA9WhRUGU4.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-1010857750671981544</id><published>2012-01-28T07:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T05:49:51.639-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-30T05:49:51.639-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"&gt;Probably you think you don't need the support of her, 'cause she's too far away and must to do all other things before you; this is &lt;i&gt;untrue&lt;/i&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"&gt;Sometimes, there is a person who's sincerely thinking of you and being unhappy if you are. She can't do anything else until see you well.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"&gt;Distance doesn't signify she's not with you. Her own desire on those moments it's to be next to you, face to face and take your hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"&gt;The huge hug it's in her mind and in a few days, &lt;b&gt;will be reality&lt;/b&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rV8ZzcgcNLo/TyQaKzp3nuI/AAAAAAAAAx8/ZGp_f2A-1pM/s1600/tumblr_lxwd3x0d7Y1qieq9mo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rV8ZzcgcNLo/TyQaKzp3nuI/AAAAAAAAAx8/ZGp_f2A-1pM/s400/tumblr_lxwd3x0d7Y1qieq9mo1_500_large.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-1010857750671981544?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/1010857750671981544/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/probably-you-think-you-dont-need.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/1010857750671981544?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/1010857750671981544?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/probably-you-think-you-dont-need.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rV8ZzcgcNLo/TyQaKzp3nuI/AAAAAAAAAx8/ZGp_f2A-1pM/s72-c/tumblr_lxwd3x0d7Y1qieq9mo1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DkYCRXY6fip7ImA9WhRUFks.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-4700757093503788529</id><published>2012-01-27T03:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T03:36:04.816-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-27T03:36:04.816-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Hay que saber cuándo una etapa llega a su fin. &lt;br /&gt;Cuando insistimos en alargarla más de lo necesario, perdemos la alegría y el sentido de las otras etapas que tenemos que vivir. &lt;br /&gt;Poner fin a un ciclo, cerrar puertas, concluir capítulos... No importa el nombre que le demos, lo importante es dejar en el pasado los momentos de la vida que ya terminaron. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Me han despedido del trabajo? ¿Ha terminado una relación? ¿Me he ido de casa de mis padres? ¿Me he ido a vivir a otro país? Esa amistad que tanto cultivé... ¿Ha desaparecido sin más? &lt;br /&gt;Puedes pasar mucho tiempo preguntándote por qué ha sucedido algo así. &lt;br /&gt;Puedes decirte a ti mismo que no darás un paso más hasta entender por qué motivo esas cosas que eran tan importantes en tu vida, se convirtieron de repente en polvo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dejar para siempre. Soltar. Desprenderse. Nadie en esta vida juega con cartas marcadas. Por ello, unas veces ganamos y otras, perdemos. No esperes que te devuelvan lo que has dado, no esperes que reconozcan tu esfuerzo, que descubran tu genio, que entiendan tu amor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deja de encender tu televisión emocional y ver siempre el mismo programa, en el que se muestra cómo has sufrido con determinada pérdida: eso no hace sino envenenarte. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cerrar ciclos. No por orgullo, ni por incapacidad, ni por soberbia, sino porque, sencillamente, aquello ya no encaja en tu vida. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por lo tanto, cierra la puerta, cambia el disco, limpia la casa, sacude el polvo, cambia, ve donde quieras ir, que lo nuevo, aunque difícil, es diferente y te traerá una sensación de ventana abierta, de brisa fresca para vivir feliz, si sabes aprovecharla y te desatas de las cosas feas del pasado, viejo y rutinario, al cual, nunca podrás regresar, y llevas sobre tus hombros, como una pesada carga que no te deja caminar ni disfrutar lo que queda por recorer. Y sobretodo, cuando digas SI a lo que encuentras, ámalo profundamente, gózalo y disfrútalo con la sinceridad que siempre has tenido, y trata que la rutina no se instale como una nueva carga a llevar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-4700757093503788529?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/4700757093503788529/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/hay-que-saber-cuando-una-etapa-llega-su.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/4700757093503788529?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/4700757093503788529?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/hay-que-saber-cuando-una-etapa-llega-su.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HsuEFsF3ESI/TyKL6v7sI7I/AAAAAAAAAx0/5m-Il5ByPvM/s72-c/tumblr_lydvbuElC21qhj05qo1_250_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D0IAQng6fSp7ImA9WhRUFk0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-6114317687377468983</id><published>2012-01-26T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T11:19:03.615-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-26T11:19:03.615-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Quizá estaba equivocada y pensó que lo que estaban creando era algo real.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Que no necesitaba probar algo nuevo, porque había encontrado lo que quería.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Nunca probó las drogas porque no le interesaban, así es que, no yacía razón alguna para probar lo que ella no deseaba. La excusa de no saber lo que era, no se presuponía válida, sino también debería de haber probado a meterse una raya y así aprender de ello también. -ABSURDO-&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Lo más desconcertante fue que él se lo dijera, tras haber dejado claro lo que ella quería.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Estaba claro, había metido la pata.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-6114317687377468983?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/6114317687377468983/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/quiza-estaba-equivocada-y-penso-que-lo.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/6114317687377468983?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/6114317687377468983?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/quiza-estaba-equivocada-y-penso-que-lo.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;AkYMSHkycCp7ImA9WhRUFUQ.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-1046313134247577561</id><published>2012-01-26T08:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T09:16:29.798-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-26T09:16:29.798-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sólo sé que en el amor la experiencia no cuenta para nada; si contase, no se volvería nunca más a amar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Para aprender a amar, se comienza de la misma forma en la que haríamos sí quisiéramos aprender cualquier otro arte, música, medicina o ingeniería. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Lo importante reside en si uno mismo quiere aprender a valorar ese arte, o dejarse llevar por el vaivén de las flores que hueles una sola vez y no saben a nada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Flores que a veces ni llegas a oler, sólo tocas sus pétalos y los penetras con los dedos pensando que ese es el mejor placer o el que hay en esos momentos disponible. -Resignación-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;La impaciencia es una gran enfermedad...cuando uno se resigna a no amar, el problema, la mayoría de las veces, es que no se deja amar, y el camino fácil todos lo conocemos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Me enamoré cuando encontré el mejor objeto disponible en el mercado y no lo busqué. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Cuando te enamoras, das, y recibes más felicidad; no porque sea una privación, sino porque en ese acto de dar, está la expresión de mi vitalidad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Si quieres ser amado. Ama. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;El arte de amar se reduce a decir exactamente lo que el grado de embriaguez del momento requiera. No hay nada que se le iguale. Y yo sólo deseo eso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;En el amor no existe el libre albedrío, nadie puede decidir de quién va a enamorarse. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Puede decidir no enamorarse, poniendo barreras. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Puede coger todos los objetos que le ofrece el mercado y consumirlos, saciando su sed por instantes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Puede creer que no existe nada mejor que ese acto sexual vacío de todo sentimiento en el que dos extraños se unen a sabiendas de que es sólo eso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt; -sexo-. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Por poder, puede decir, hacer y pensar lo que le venga en gana, puesto que el arte de amar da libertad, y si no quieres vivirla, o te gusta probar otros actos más factibles y simples, hazlo. Eres lo que haces. No hay más que decir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;El amor no está en el otro, está dentro de uno mismo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Yo decido despertarlo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;
&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-1046313134247577561?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/1046313134247577561/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/solo-se-que-en-el-amor-la-experiencia.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/1046313134247577561?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/1046313134247577561?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/solo-se-que-en-el-amor-la-experiencia.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DUYNRH8_cSp7ImA9WhRUFEg.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-8325473854207903614</id><published>2012-01-24T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T18:06:35.149-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-24T18:06:35.149-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ya con su corta edad, surcaba por su mente el ideal del &lt;i&gt;príncipe azul&lt;/i&gt;; aquel que con un sólo beso le hiciese despertarse del eterno sueño.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;El esperado príncipe no se dejaba ver, pero ella no perdía la esperanza -jamás-.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ya tenía diecisiete años y una tarde, paseando por uno de sus museos preferidos de Madrid, notó el soplo de una voz que parecía se dirigía a ella.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Miró a hacía su hombro izquierdo, y ante su silueta se escalonaba un hombre maduro, esbelto y moreno, con traje y corbata. Le preguntó si solía venir sola a menudo a los museos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ella no supo qué contestar, sólo pudo -sonreír-.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ma7VmxwAU8s/Tx9fcuBh-pI/AAAAAAAAAxU/ywOCysEamdA/s1600/tumblr_lybk9aAyJ01qei95oo1_500_large.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ma7VmxwAU8s/Tx9fcuBh-pI/AAAAAAAAAxU/ywOCysEamdA/s400/tumblr_lybk9aAyJ01qei95oo1_500_large.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Aquella tarde todo tenía otro color.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sus manos temblaban cuando la noche se apresuraba y con ella, el vino corriendo por sus venas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sentía un torbellino imparable surcando sus entrañas, y ninguna fuerza sería capaz de frenarlo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Juntos,... se fueron aproximando, depositaron las copas en la mesa de cristal, y ... segundo tras segundo, sin dejar de mirarse, sus labios fueron aproximándose el uno al otro como dos imanes que sienten curiosidad y miedo a la vez por lo que pueda suceder si se unen.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Aquello no fue un beso. Fue unión, placer, sentimiento y ardor en todo el cuerpo. La piel de gallina cubría su cuerpo excitado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Le cogió en brazos y como una princesa en un cuento de hadas, la llevó con su vestido rosa hasta la habitación.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0djsX-tFtcQ/Tx9gkaT9Y5I/AAAAAAAAAxk/Eztmh42LdZE/s1600/tumblr_lxpf904fpR1qb8vpuo1_1280_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0djsX-tFtcQ/Tx9gkaT9Y5I/AAAAAAAAAxk/Eztmh42LdZE/s400/tumblr_lxpf904fpR1qb8vpuo1_1280_large.jpg" width="342" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Primeros rayos de sol del amanecer; mirar hacia la ventana con un amanecer cautivante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Retorcer la cabeza oliendo las sábanas lentamente, y ver su rostro dormido... rozar sus brazos con la yema de los dedos, y decirle al oído:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-Buenísimos días señorito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-Buenos días princesa, ¿cómo has dormido? ¿estás a gusto?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-No hay lugar en la tierra ni en el universo donde pudiera estar más a gusto que en esta cama, sintiendo que estás justo aquí; delante mía y que no eres un sueño.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-Eres preciosa ¿lo sabías? tienes dos lunares perfectos en el lado izquierdo de tu rostro y ahora mismo brillan profundamente con la luz del sol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-¡Qué tonterías dices!...deja de adularme anda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-Yo no adulo, sólo sé decir lo que pienso cuando lo pienso y en el mismo momento en el que lo pienso.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-¿Y qué piensas ahora mismo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-Que amo cada centímetro de tu cuerpo, eres perfecta.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-¿Y eso es lo único que amas de mí?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-Hay cosas que no se pueden decir, pero me cautivaste desde el primer momento en que te vi contemplando aquel cuadro de Monet, con tu mirada fija, tu cuerpo erguido, y esa sustancia que desprendías, tan atrayente como un diamante, pero a la vez tan invisible como el viento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-Bueno, supongo que es una respuesta aceptable...aunque, ¡los diamantes no me atraen lo sabes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-Era una metáfora...¿no querrás que te haga una lista de todas las cosas que me gustan de ti?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-No; esa lista haz que prevalezca en tu mente, y cada día que nos veamos dame una pista para que vaya adivinándola poco a poco. No tengo ninguna prisa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-Está bien, trato hecho; por cierto...¿desayunamos?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-¡Sí!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mlUK4IzZSyg/Tx9fn2tC3cI/AAAAAAAAAxc/_nYBbE_sqR0/s1600/desayuno_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mlUK4IzZSyg/Tx9fn2tC3cI/AAAAAAAAAxc/_nYBbE_sqR0/s400/desayuno_large.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Un par de años después él se marcho a Londres, y ella se quedó con todos los recuerdos, que recuerdos son, y recuerdos serán para toda la vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ella amó, desbordó todos sus sentimientos hasta colapsarlos de sabor agridulce; viajaron y vivieron lo que quisieron y más. Creció y maduró día a día, entendiendo que en el amor no todo es un cuento de hadas.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sin embargo, sólo quedaron en su memoria los momentos fugaces de felicidad que juntos crearon sin querer, dejándose llevar.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I2lDyXcV314/Tx9gu-bNEeI/AAAAAAAAAxs/rPM-AeI7FvA/s1600/tumblr_ly9p4kD7VZ1r5vp1oo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I2lDyXcV314/Tx9gu-bNEeI/AAAAAAAAAxs/rPM-AeI7FvA/s400/tumblr_ly9p4kD7VZ1r5vp1oo1_500_large.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-8325473854207903614?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/8325473854207903614/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/ya-con-su-corta-edad-surcaba-por-su.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/8325473854207903614?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/8325473854207903614?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/ya-con-su-corta-edad-surcaba-por-su.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ma7VmxwAU8s/Tx9fcuBh-pI/AAAAAAAAAxU/ywOCysEamdA/s72-c/tumblr_lybk9aAyJ01qei95oo1_500_large.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CU4DQ306fip7ImA9WhRUFEk.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-3306522934478176207</id><published>2012-01-24T14:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T14:26:12.316-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-24T14:26:12.316-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Get busy living, or get busy dying. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-3306522934478176207?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/3306522934478176207/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/get-busy-living-or-get-busy-dying.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/3306522934478176207?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/3306522934478176207?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/get-busy-living-or-get-busy-dying.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;C0INQn8yfCp7ImA9WhRUFE8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-2609864931638868427</id><published>2012-01-24T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T08:13:13.194-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-24T08:13:13.194-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Una mañana apacible por las calles de Madrid y su lozano sol.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Un&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;Moët en buena compañía y algunos caprichos Dior&amp;amp;Guess para el fin de semana que se avecina...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;And now, go to sport!&lt;/b&gt; &amp;nbsp;¡Escalada en la Dehesa! Espero no caer al vacío...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JOdMTZGb2i4/Tx7XnoVHG0I/AAAAAAAAAw8/GRf7Om0r-LU/s1600/Dior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JOdMTZGb2i4/Tx7XnoVHG0I/AAAAAAAAAw8/GRf7Om0r-LU/s400/Dior.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J7OJa1MefGM/Tx7XouXidrI/AAAAAAAAAxE/xU_ee6djhV8/s1600/Guess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J7OJa1MefGM/Tx7XouXidrI/AAAAAAAAAxE/xU_ee6djhV8/s400/Guess.jpg" width="293" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0EBOOSJH03w/Tx7XrfmMNUI/AAAAAAAAAxM/jnTadyR7IGc/s1600/Moe%25CC%2588t.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="256" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0EBOOSJH03w/Tx7XrfmMNUI/AAAAAAAAAxM/jnTadyR7IGc/s400/Moe%25CC%2588t.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-2609864931638868427?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/2609864931638868427/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/manana-por-las-calles-de-madrid-un-moet.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/2609864931638868427?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/2609864931638868427?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/manana-por-las-calles-de-madrid-un-moet.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JOdMTZGb2i4/Tx7XnoVHG0I/AAAAAAAAAw8/GRf7Om0r-LU/s72-c/Dior.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D04AQH87cSp7ImA9WhRUE0s.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-85750918751998917</id><published>2012-01-23T16:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T16:45:41.109-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-23T16:45:41.109-08:00</app:edited><title>Look at this photograph</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jHmTZt2M4sY?fs=1" width="459"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Every memory of looking out the back door&lt;br /&gt;I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to say&lt;br /&gt;It's time to say it&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, Goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Every memory of walking out the front door&lt;br /&gt;I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-85750918751998917?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/85750918751998917/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/look-at-this-photograph.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/85750918751998917?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/85750918751998917?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/look-at-this-photograph.html' title='Look at this photograph'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/jHmTZt2M4sY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D04NRHo5eyp7ImA9WhRUE0s.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-3501157549211948810</id><published>2012-01-22T18:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T16:46:35.423-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-23T16:46:35.423-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;When you think that someone could enter into your heart, you feel weak.&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;On my personally case i feel disturb: -I adore this feeling-. It's a new experience on my life; meet a guy who makes you smile more than ever, and don't know the reason. Take his hands, brush his lips, touch his body, discuss of crazy acts that you want to commit with him...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm not sure if my acts are coherents, but, &lt;i&gt;who said that all the acts have to be congruents? The biggest memories are made when reason is inactive. When you inspire and expire this magic and unexpected air; plenty of oxygen and particules of madness...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, you understand that in life, if you don't open your harms, you can't fly away.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I always tried to close my emotions, and now, -&lt;b&gt;the war it's on-&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like an angel (he's an archangel name...), he makes me fly and go around of my convictions; he helped me to forgive and i'm losing my mind, open my emotions and desires... i can discover the best part of him and he would ever know how I AM when he's next to me. I'm the same person, with the difference that i'm terrified because i know what i feel, i want telling him, but, i think he isn't able to understand my mind at this moments...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Conversely, i think he's not as excited as me. I seem to be cold and no sentimental; but, all the details, are expressed and painted on my brain. All the words he said, are kept on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, i'm convince he doesn't know me like he say all times; &lt;b&gt;i'm sure about it.&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Can read he's mind when he looks at me. Knowing he's wrong when he tries to convince me that i'm not on happiness or i have to mature... This is his point of view, i respect all that he thinks, says and doesn't tell to me; even if i'm intrigued when he decides to stop his sentences and abolish to me the most important part of his feelings and thoughts...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm so sure and proud of me; my feelings, acts an reactions, that confirms to me he's wrong thinking this... If he could enter into my mind and read her, he would recognize it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kCmDdFI7shY/TxzBcOLhpjI/AAAAAAAAAw0/TPjOq7I8MgQ/s1600/386423_2791892489940_1637247892_2605511_56981156_n_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="398" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kCmDdFI7shY/TxzBcOLhpjI/AAAAAAAAAw0/TPjOq7I8MgQ/s400/386423_2791892489940_1637247892_2605511_56981156_n_large.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Probably, one day, he'll discover the -REALITY-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Maybe, once in a lifetime&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I just want to say that, day to day, i fill the cup with new ENERGY and it's amazing: feel the cup shatter, 'cause this energy it's too intense to support her volume.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Hope, this volume will grow a lot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;, &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;infinitely&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-3501157549211948810?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/3501157549211948810/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/when-you-think-that-someone-could-enter.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/3501157549211948810?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/3501157549211948810?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/when-you-think-that-someone-could-enter.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kCmDdFI7shY/TxzBcOLhpjI/AAAAAAAAAw0/TPjOq7I8MgQ/s72-c/386423_2791892489940_1637247892_2605511_56981156_n_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CEMERHg6fSp7ImA9WhRVGEQ.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-7593334572329199878</id><published>2012-01-18T05:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T05:13:25.615-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-18T05:13:25.615-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Con ávidas miradas&lt;br /&gt;nunca a la luz del véspero&lt;br /&gt;has seguido las pisadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Felicidad secreta,&lt;br /&gt;del que árbitro se alza único;&lt;br /&gt;del que más nocturnas lámparas&lt;br /&gt;no ve, ni otros soles claros,&lt;br /&gt;ni lleva en revuelto piélago&lt;br /&gt;más luz de estrellas ni faros&lt;br /&gt;que aquella que vierten mágica,&lt;br /&gt;-TUS OJOS-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Con la luz del crepúsculo &lt;br /&gt;no has bajado las colinas,&lt;br /&gt;de emociones mil divinas,&lt;br /&gt;ni a lo largo de los álamos &lt;br /&gt;grato el pasear te fue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-7593334572329199878?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/7593334572329199878/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/con-avidas-miradas-nunca-la-luz-del.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/7593334572329199878?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/7593334572329199878?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/con-avidas-miradas-nunca-la-luz-del.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;C0AMSHs_fSp7ImA9WhRVGEQ.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-6107889664277111617</id><published>2012-01-18T05:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T05:03:09.545-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-18T05:03:09.545-08:00</app:edited><title>All Good Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4pBo-GL9SRg?fs=1" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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HONESTLY WHAT WILL BECOME OF ME&lt;br /&gt;I DON´T LIKE REALITY&lt;br /&gt;IT´S WAY TOO CLEAR TO ME&lt;br /&gt;BUT REALLY LIFE IS DAILY&lt;br /&gt;WE ARE WHAT WE DON´T SEE&lt;br /&gt;WE MISSED EVERYTHING DAYDREAMING&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLAMES TO DUST&lt;br /&gt;LOVERS TO FRIENDS&lt;br /&gt;WHY DO ALL GOOD THINGS COME TO AN END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-6107889664277111617?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/6107889664277111617/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/all-good-things.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/6107889664277111617?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/6107889664277111617?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/all-good-things.html' title='All Good Things'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/4pBo-GL9SRg/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;AkIEQXY5fyp7ImA9WhRVGEQ.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-6101796255876694647</id><published>2012-01-18T04:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T06:55:00.827-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-18T06:55:00.827-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me despejé los mechones que se aventuraban por recubrir mi rostro para observar con mayor claridad lo que se desplegaba ante mí. Con disimulo observé aquella mañana maravillosa, iluminada y precipitadamente excitante.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rubor en las mejillas, rimel en las pestañas, rojo en los labios, y un vestido negro que cubriese mis curvas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Un chocolate ardiente junto a dos macarrons en la cafetería de en frente, y caminando me adentré en los vaivenes de las calles de Madrid. Recorrí con los tacones las numerosas vías hasta llegar al lugar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ahí estaba, aquel monumento en el que reina el silencio. Estanterías repletas de libros, sofás mullidos para disfrutar de una lectura apaciguante. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Giré la página 87, cuando sentí su mirada cautiva cernirse sobre mis manos. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dejé reposar el libro sobre mis rodillas y consecuentemente nuestras miradas se unieron.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Una sonrisa se desplomó sin querer, y su esbelta figura trajeada se sostuvo escondiendo el temor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cogió mi mano con sutileza, y me alcé sin pensar, apresurándome hacia su sombra.&lt;br /&gt;
Saliendo juntos de la mano, fuimos a descubrir lo que nos deparaba aquel día.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No quiero estar a merced de mis emociones. Quiero usarlas, disfrutarlas, dominarlas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La incertidumbre es lo que nos cautiva. La bruma hace que las cosas sean maravillosas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definir es limitar, nada es certero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si algo me queda claro es que nunca podría haber hecho lo que he hecho, sin los hábitos de puntualidad, orden y diligencia, sin la determinación de concentrar en mí un único objetivo a la vez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-5370299473000039066?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/5370299473000039066/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/no-quiero-estar-merced-de-mis-emociones.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/5370299473000039066?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/5370299473000039066?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/no-quiero-estar-merced-de-mis-emociones.html' title=''/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A0IARXozeSp7ImA9WhRVF0g.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-4565483788951044533</id><published>2012-01-16T16:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T16:19:04.481-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-16T16:19:04.481-08:00</app:edited><title>Chuck &amp; Blair: With Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OfdvaX0_IPs?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-4565483788951044533?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/4565483788951044533/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/chuck-blair-with-me.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/4565483788951044533?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/4565483788951044533?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/chuck-blair-with-me.html' title='Chuck &amp; Blair: With Me'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/OfdvaX0_IPs/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A0YNSHs4eip7ImA9WhRVF0g.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-9090780343888395759</id><published>2012-01-16T16:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T16:13:19.532-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-16T16:13:19.532-08:00</app:edited><title>Chuck/Blair - Airplanes</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lp8lcCwqAB4?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8917372341970598750-9090780343888395759?l=femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/feeds/9090780343888395759/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/chuckblair-airplanes.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/9090780343888395759?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8917372341970598750/posts/default/9090780343888395759?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://femmefatal-edustyle.blogspot.com/2012/01/chuckblair-airplanes.html' title='Chuck/Blair - Airplanes'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08747959297517714197</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6ufvhEm1cGA/TseT6vMjP1I/AAAAAAAAAsw/hJ1SofmFE4g/s220/4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/lp8lcCwqAB4/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;Ak4DRX8_fip7ImA9WhRVGE8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8917372341970598750.post-3212913855089239509</id><published>2012-01-16T06:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T11:36:14.146-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-01-17T11:36:14.146-08:00</app:edited><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;La vida es corta... &lt;br /&gt;rompe reglas, perdona rápido, besa lento,  &lt;br /&gt;ama de verdad, ríete sin control   &lt;br /&gt;y nunca dejes de sonreír, &lt;br /&gt;por más extraño que sea el motivo. &lt;br /&gt;Puede ser que la vida no sea la fiesta que esperábamos, pero en tanto estemos aquí, debemos bailar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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