<?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;DEAHQ3Y8eSp7ImA9WhVSEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496</id><updated>2012-03-06T01:05:32.871-03:00</updated><category term="mudanças" /><category term="solidão" /><category term="conhecimento" /><category term="desafios" /><category term="planos" /><category term="ações" /><category term="metas" /><category term="Pensamentos" /><category term="relacionamentos" /><category term="aceitação" /><category term="reflexição" /><category term="vida" /><category term="ilusão" /><category term="objetivos" /><category term="Modificar" /><category term="Adaptar." /><category term="controle" /><category term="indecisão" /><category term="caminhos" /><category term="viver" /><category term="medo" /><category term="expectativas e aproveitar" /><category term="escolhas" /><category term="opções" /><category term="Poesias" /><category term="empatia" /><category term="Personagens" /><category term="Indrisos" /><category term="Blog" /><category term="aprender" /><category term="Músicas" /><title>Pensarcontextos</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>60</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/Pensarcontextos" /><feedburner:info uri="pensarcontextos" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAHQ3YzfSp7ImA9WhVSEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-8321080461711068059</id><published>2012-03-06T01:05:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2012-03-06T01:05:32.885-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-03-06T01:05:32.885-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="aceitação" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="conhecimento" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="aprender" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="caminhos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="empatia" /><title>Caminhando sempre...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/8321080461711068059/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2012/03/caminhando-sempre.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/8321080461711068059?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/8321080461711068059?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/bYqA_oudHLg/caminhando-sempre.html" title="Caminhando sempre..." /><author><name>Aline Almeida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13304459597211771264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NFAbcMYTVYA/Tn9bsdjqtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/_1l0HN1h6Y4/s220/Foto0366.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C0sczr-2fRHHTzRVrLVz7Lcqmf8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C0sczr-2fRHHTzRVrLVz7Lcqmf8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C0sczr-2fRHHTzRVrLVz7Lcqmf8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C0sczr-2fRHHTzRVrLVz7Lcqmf8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Incrível como pode funcionar essa historia de empatia... Podemos demorar anos para conhecer um pouco sobre uma pessoa, mas em alguns momentos encontramos uma pessoa e é necessário apenas alguns instantes para que seja possível capturar sua essência.
Está mais do que claro de que as pessoas são diferentes uma das outras e cada uma possui um grau de sinceridade e clareza em mostrar seus sentimentos&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/bYqA_oudHLg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2012/03/caminhando-sempre.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0AERH46eip7ImA9WhRRFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-2226657697111720637</id><published>2011-11-28T01:08:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T01:08:25.012-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-28T01:08:25.012-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensamentos" /><title>Deleite</title><link rel="related" href="http://www.viniciusarnom.com.br/index.php/component/content/article/44-poema/70-deleite" title="Deleite" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2226657697111720637/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2011/11/deleite.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/2226657697111720637?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/2226657697111720637?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/EoYhl_RVmLE/deleite.html" title="Deleite" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aLzEmjbvhiUq-rbfo0uIek8sCc0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aLzEmjbvhiUq-rbfo0uIek8sCc0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aLzEmjbvhiUq-rbfo0uIek8sCc0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aLzEmjbvhiUq-rbfo0uIek8sCc0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Provar, comer, deliciar
a inconstância do amar
tal como um desejo
o anseio, um ensaio
o preparo e o contar.
Contar de grãos e notas,
um solfejo.
O soar do sino
toca, entoa o apito
do preto velho, o pito.
Põe-se a mesa
e lambe os dedos
melados de sobremesa.
Coma o meu poema!
Dê-me um papel
e uma caneta
Para me servir de mamadeira,
pano e chupeta
Para enganar a falta de teta
Da negra ama, o leite
&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/EoYhl_RVmLE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2011/11/deleite.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEMRHc4fSp7ImA9WhdUE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-3356834773793423149</id><published>2011-09-30T00:48:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T00:51:25.935-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-30T00:51:25.935-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="escolhas" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="desafios" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="viver" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="caminhos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="metas" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="objetivos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="planos" /><title>Quando dá certo... o lado bom...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3356834773793423149/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2011/09/o-que-fazer-quando-chegamos-la.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/3356834773793423149?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/3356834773793423149?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/beMRd7yPSgg/o-que-fazer-quando-chegamos-la.html" title="Quando dá certo... o lado bom..." /><author><name>Aline Almeida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13304459597211771264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NFAbcMYTVYA/Tn9bsdjqtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/_1l0HN1h6Y4/s220/Foto0366.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SWGqKZbZ_F3W1XOD3S3HidwIJAA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SWGqKZbZ_F3W1XOD3S3HidwIJAA/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/SWGqKZbZ_F3W1XOD3S3HidwIJAA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SWGqKZbZ_F3W1XOD3S3HidwIJAA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Não é segredo o fato de sermos movidos por metas, sonhos, objetivos... temos liberdade de chamar do modo que desejarmos. O fato é que precisamos visualizar algo ao longe e desejar alcançá-lo para efetivamente nos movermos. 
Existem muitas diferenças entre viver e existir. 
Um dos maiores fatores é este, se nos mantemos em movimento de acordo com nossas escolhas e anseios ou se deixamos que nossa &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/beMRd7yPSgg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2011/09/o-que-fazer-quando-chegamos-la.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcGQX0yfip7ImA9Wx9aFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-7820233609464275921</id><published>2011-03-08T01:06:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T01:53:40.396-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-08T01:53:40.396-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ações" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ilusão" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="controle" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mudanças" /><title>Mudanças...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7820233609464275921/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2011/03/mudancas.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/7820233609464275921?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/7820233609464275921?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/Q1p9DS0wj3I/mudancas.html" title="Mudanças..." /><author><name>Aline Almeida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13304459597211771264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NFAbcMYTVYA/Tn9bsdjqtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/_1l0HN1h6Y4/s220/Foto0366.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I32avi_ATIbSve5f0rCguzXmWmM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I32avi_ATIbSve5f0rCguzXmWmM/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/I32avi_ATIbSve5f0rCguzXmWmM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I32avi_ATIbSve5f0rCguzXmWmM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;É incrível quando paramos para pensar no conceito de mudança, transformação.Estamos sempre cercados por elas e passando por elas, independente de nossos desejos, anseios, preparações e decisões.As mudanças ocorrem e precisamos aprender a lidar com elas.Uma simples decisão pode ser o gatilho de tantas mudanças que quando menos esperamos estamos nos afogando nelas. Isso nos dá uma nova visão - ou &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/Q1p9DS0wj3I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2011/03/mudancas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MDQX4zfSp7ImA9WxFUGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-2424098708833798269</id><published>2010-07-01T00:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T00:37:50.085-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-01T00:37:50.085-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensamentos" /><title>O que faz valer estar vivo?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2424098708833798269/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/07/o-que-faz-valer-estar-vivo.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/2424098708833798269?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/2424098708833798269?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/SldZTd_jbig/o-que-faz-valer-estar-vivo.html" title="O que faz valer estar vivo?" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iiN6VSMK4D0K5wyW0tEI8-OLLos/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iiN6VSMK4D0K5wyW0tEI8-OLLos/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/iiN6VSMK4D0K5wyW0tEI8-OLLos/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iiN6VSMK4D0K5wyW0tEI8-OLLos/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"O que realmente faz valer a pena estar vivo não há filmadora ou máquina  fotográfica que registre. Surpresas, gargalhadas, lágrimas, enfim, o  que eu sinto, quem eu sou, você só vai perceber quando olhar nos meus  olhos, ou melhor, além deles. " 
Melina Sacia  Isa&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/SldZTd_jbig" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/07/o-que-faz-valer-estar-vivo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEAGQnw5fip7ImA9WxFWEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-4751612268391015149</id><published>2010-05-30T17:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T17:52:03.226-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-30T17:52:03.226-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensamentos" /><title>Semente</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4751612268391015149/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/05/semente.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/4751612268391015149?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/4751612268391015149?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/791VnUwqyOU/semente.html" title="Semente" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AKl2Hn2w-1gAeZNlR2hDDWq21uo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AKl2Hn2w-1gAeZNlR2hDDWq21uo/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/AKl2Hn2w-1gAeZNlR2hDDWq21uo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AKl2Hn2w-1gAeZNlR2hDDWq21uo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"Se não houver frutos, valeu a beleza das flores; 
se não houver flores,  valeu a sombra das folhas; 
se não houver folhas, valeu a intenção da  semente."
Henfil &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/791VnUwqyOU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/05/semente.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4CQnw_fip7ImA9WxFWEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-1568504631581158632</id><published>2010-05-24T20:44:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T23:29:23.246-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-30T23:29:23.246-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="viver" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="medo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="indecisão" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="caminhos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="opções" /><title>Caminhos e opções...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1568504631581158632/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/05/caminhos-e-opcoes.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1568504631581158632?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1568504631581158632?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/YsJs7BcTLms/caminhos-e-opcoes.html" title="Caminhos e opções..." /><author><name>Aline Almeida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13304459597211771264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NFAbcMYTVYA/Tn9bsdjqtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/_1l0HN1h6Y4/s220/Foto0366.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qydrW3_ng04qAsT3_vPilyhfWQs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qydrW3_ng04qAsT3_vPilyhfWQs/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/qydrW3_ng04qAsT3_vPilyhfWQs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qydrW3_ng04qAsT3_vPilyhfWQs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Quão maravilhoso seria se pudéssemos tomar nossas decisões com facilidade, todas elas. Mas, na verdade, podemos escolher facilmente o que iremos comer no almoço, porém isso não se aplica em outras situações de nossas vidas.Se bem que, as vezes, nos parece difícil escolher o que comemos no almoço também, de modo que escolhemos o "de sempre", não porque queremos comer, mas porque não temos ideia de&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/YsJs7BcTLms" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/05/caminhos-e-opcoes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkINSH0-fSp7ImA9WxFXF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-7855983638471088308</id><published>2010-05-07T21:07:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T20:43:19.355-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-24T20:43:19.355-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adaptar." /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Modificar" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Personagens" /><title>Palcos da vida</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7855983638471088308/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/05/palcos-da-vida.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/7855983638471088308?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/7855983638471088308?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/CgCvpLJXO-M/palcos-da-vida.html" title="Palcos da vida" /><author><name>Aline Almeida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13304459597211771264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NFAbcMYTVYA/Tn9bsdjqtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/_1l0HN1h6Y4/s220/Foto0366.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IJiYgj9OmcRZ5gofWx4fS6dtH8Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IJiYgj9OmcRZ5gofWx4fS6dtH8Q/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/IJiYgj9OmcRZ5gofWx4fS6dtH8Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IJiYgj9OmcRZ5gofWx4fS6dtH8Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Não é segredo para ninguém a dificuldade de sermos 100% nós mesmos em diversas situações de nossas vidas, assim como não é segredo o risco que corremos de nos perder com o passar do tempo, com a chegada da mudança.Criamos personagens e somos o que a necessidade nos manda, em resumo fingimos. A vida não imita a arte, ela faz com que ela apareça.No fundo, estamos em um grande palco onde as emoções &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/CgCvpLJXO-M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/05/palcos-da-vida.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMDQX09fSp7ImA9WxFSFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-7091821910551051663</id><published>2010-04-18T14:57:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T14:57:50.365-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-18T14:57:50.365-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensamentos" /><title>Dor</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7091821910551051663/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/04/dor.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/7091821910551051663?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/7091821910551051663?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/yAIok0py8X0/dor.html" title="Dor" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yqf7LTNS3piD-nn0GWLrcJX8BUM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yqf7LTNS3piD-nn0GWLrcJX8BUM/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/Yqf7LTNS3piD-nn0GWLrcJX8BUM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yqf7LTNS3piD-nn0GWLrcJX8BUM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"Não há maior dor  do que a de nos recordarmos
dos dias felizes quando estamos na miséria."
Dante Alighieri&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/yAIok0py8X0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/04/dor.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UCQnk_eCp7ImA9WxFTE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-1249238585606149410</id><published>2010-04-04T11:27:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T11:27:43.740-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-04T11:27:43.740-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensamentos" /><title>Escrever</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1249238585606149410/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/04/escrever.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1249238585606149410?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1249238585606149410?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/VfcAdSJqFKA/escrever.html" title="Escrever" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7aRM01WN8uFPqEeN5D3aRsd_beM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7aRM01WN8uFPqEeN5D3aRsd_beM/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/7aRM01WN8uFPqEeN5D3aRsd_beM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7aRM01WN8uFPqEeN5D3aRsd_beM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"Queria que minha vida fosse escrita nos versos de meus poemas para que ela tivesse bem mais rimas, estrofes e temas."   Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz  &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/VfcAdSJqFKA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/04/escrever.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4MSHY6cCp7ImA9WxFTEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-8715977771562094999</id><published>2010-04-02T19:56:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T19:56:29.818-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-02T19:56:29.818-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensamentos" /><title>Conquista</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/8715977771562094999/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/04/conquista.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/8715977771562094999?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/8715977771562094999?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/vMBj1kpAFRw/conquista.html" title="Conquista" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6HBnuLhx7d2owBEaVH0nNX5LGes/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6HBnuLhx7d2owBEaVH0nNX5LGes/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/6HBnuLhx7d2owBEaVH0nNX5LGes/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6HBnuLhx7d2owBEaVH0nNX5LGes/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"Se você conquista o algo, mas não conquista o alguém, então não conquistou nada"     Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz  &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/vMBj1kpAFRw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/04/conquista.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIAQHk6eSp7ImA9WxFTEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-2447028163765101679</id><published>2010-04-02T12:52:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T12:52:21.711-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-02T12:52:21.711-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><title>Lágrimas de Titã</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2447028163765101679/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/04/lagrimas-de-tita.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/2447028163765101679?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/2447028163765101679?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/HFNgRjJO06Q/lagrimas-de-tita.html" title="Lágrimas de Titã" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lZ92_a0pKia55RAsOLgKHbi5YdM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lZ92_a0pKia55RAsOLgKHbi5YdM/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/lZ92_a0pKia55RAsOLgKHbi5YdM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lZ92_a0pKia55RAsOLgKHbi5YdM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Às vezes a rivalidade é tudo,    uma intriga em uma amizade.     A força de um titã e a pura bondade.     Quem saberá a verdade?  Às vezes quando o ódio e amor,    quando o poder pueril.     Unem-se numa guerra,     sabemos isso é o poder da cobra vil.  Às vezes quando nada nós importa,    nos entregamos ao abismo da morte.     sabemos sim que podemos morrer,     mas o que importa é vencer.  Às &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/HFNgRjJO06Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/04/lagrimas-de-tita.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUICRXk5cCp7ImA9WxBaE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-2948422534757261054</id><published>2010-03-21T23:15:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T19:32:44.728-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-23T19:32:44.728-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensamentos" /><title>Poema</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2948422534757261054/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/03/poema.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/2948422534757261054?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/2948422534757261054?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/N30hM0jfqE4/poema.html" title="Poema" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SAkcc6JHAFxn5SUm7H6CO21mwZc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SAkcc6JHAFxn5SUm7H6CO21mwZc/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/SAkcc6JHAFxn5SUm7H6CO21mwZc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SAkcc6JHAFxn5SUm7H6CO21mwZc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“Busco ainda a rima subjetiva do olhar, o verso perdido no sorriso, o sentido da estrofe dos gestos e a emoção que falta na poesia da minha vida”
Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/N30hM0jfqE4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/03/poema.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EDQXo5eyp7ImA9WxBaEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-3885484756015431069</id><published>2010-03-21T11:27:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T11:27:50.423-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-21T11:27:50.423-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensamentos" /><title>Responsabilidade</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3885484756015431069/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/03/responsabilidade.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/3885484756015431069?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/3885484756015431069?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/qhs3oh10Hdc/responsabilidade.html" title="Responsabilidade" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pHzKI5_Ormd3hV4ojxL44a1ipjA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pHzKI5_Ormd3hV4ojxL44a1ipjA/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/pHzKI5_Ormd3hV4ojxL44a1ipjA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pHzKI5_Ormd3hV4ojxL44a1ipjA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"Quando mais o tempo passa, mais a vida se descompassa 
e arrumo mais responsabilidade do tamanho de minha alma sem idade"
Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/qhs3oh10Hdc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/03/responsabilidade.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EERX45fSp7ImA9WxBaFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-178446903272692595</id><published>2010-03-13T02:56:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T10:20:04.025-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-26T10:20:04.025-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensamentos" /><title>Perguntas eternas</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/178446903272692595/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/03/quando-penso-que-tenho-todas-as.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/178446903272692595?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/178446903272692595?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/cg3CQrYIXk4/quando-penso-que-tenho-todas-as.html" title="Perguntas eternas" /><author><name>Aline Almeida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13304459597211771264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NFAbcMYTVYA/Tn9bsdjqtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/_1l0HN1h6Y4/s220/Foto0366.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/g5umNRwrRMMrFdeso3fa7afChOU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/g5umNRwrRMMrFdeso3fa7afChOU/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/g5umNRwrRMMrFdeso3fa7afChOU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/g5umNRwrRMMrFdeso3fa7afChOU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Quando penso que tenho todas as respostas, Vem a vida e muda todas as perguntas.Mario Quintana&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/cg3CQrYIXk4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/03/quando-penso-que-tenho-todas-as.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04AQno8fSp7ImA9WxBbEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-6779106322305569956</id><published>2010-03-09T22:52:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T22:52:23.475-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-09T22:52:23.475-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensamentos" /><title>Impossível</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6779106322305569956/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/03/impossivel.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/6779106322305569956?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/6779106322305569956?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/D_A02Bkq4bA/impossivel.html" title="Impossível" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZPoqtQrjCUiSvW1hjENXHN0vDp4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZPoqtQrjCUiSvW1hjENXHN0vDp4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZPoqtQrjCUiSvW1hjENXHN0vDp4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZPoqtQrjCUiSvW1hjENXHN0vDp4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“É dificil dizer o que é impossível pois a fantasia de ontem    é a esperança de hoje e a realidade do amanhã”  (Victorine Viviane Mizrahi)  &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/D_A02Bkq4bA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/03/impossivel.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEBRXk_fSp7ImA9WxBbEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-4560630762916410586</id><published>2010-03-08T22:20:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T22:20:54.745-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-08T22:20:54.745-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><title>Encontro</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4560630762916410586/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/03/encontro.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/4560630762916410586?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/4560630762916410586?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/vRGaXfLsTBw/encontro.html" title="Encontro" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XROZJXUE9sN8w1Qm_bUNKSR1Bmo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XROZJXUE9sN8w1Qm_bUNKSR1Bmo/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/XROZJXUE9sN8w1Qm_bUNKSR1Bmo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XROZJXUE9sN8w1Qm_bUNKSR1Bmo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Invadir seu olhar    Ser seu porto seguro     Fazê-la novamente voar     Iluminar o caminho escuro.  Seu medo perder    No aperto de meu abraço.     Farei rir, feliz ser     Até mesmo nos dias de cansaço.  Espero com um poema    Fazer sua alegria     Acalmar seu dilema     Fazer de você musa de minha poesia!  Quero ver amanhã seu riso,    Basta que me chame     E virei ao encontro de seu sorriso&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/vRGaXfLsTBw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/03/encontro.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMNSHkzeCp7ImA9WxBUGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-1968862179847249440</id><published>2010-02-13T02:55:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T01:34:59.780-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-07T01:34:59.780-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Indrisos" /><title>Sorriso</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1968862179847249440/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/sorriso.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1968862179847249440?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1968862179847249440?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/WkZZQQY37dw/sorriso.html" title="Sorriso" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yGFn-L96ntYMx6vHsqZCFK-xCEM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yGFn-L96ntYMx6vHsqZCFK-xCEM/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/yGFn-L96ntYMx6vHsqZCFK-xCEM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yGFn-L96ntYMx6vHsqZCFK-xCEM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;O seu sorriso acompanha o meu    O seu olhar conquista     E somente quero pensar no riso seu  Musa será por mim bem quista    A sua presença me faz transbordar de alegria     A ponto de escrever esta poesia  Por que mexeu com meu coração seu olhar?  Acho que isso é da primeira vista o amar!     Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz  &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/WkZZQQY37dw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/sorriso.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMNSHkzcCp7ImA9WxBUGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-1227987206852087008</id><published>2010-02-13T02:50:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T01:34:59.788-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-07T01:34:59.788-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><title>Agora</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1227987206852087008/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/agora.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1227987206852087008?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1227987206852087008?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/wjBKgNPL6pg/agora.html" title="Agora" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NHK1kbigtWxPaMxtVJRnDiMn0-g/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NHK1kbigtWxPaMxtVJRnDiMn0-g/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/NHK1kbigtWxPaMxtVJRnDiMn0-g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NHK1kbigtWxPaMxtVJRnDiMn0-g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Escuto uma canção,    fujo do futuro agora...     Perco, sufoco a confusa vibração     Não existe nenhum verso lá fora.  Encontrar no olhar dela,    o que é mesmo que procuro?     Talvez a luz seja ela     ilumina meu céu escuro.  Fecho os olhos bem forte,    nada mudou, ou eu que não mudei?     Viver, amar, tentar minha sorte...     Como posso se nada sei?  Surreal, e o que eu quero    Choque, &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/wjBKgNPL6pg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/agora.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMNSHkyfip7ImA9WxBUGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-4040375855467646091</id><published>2010-02-13T00:56:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T01:34:59.796-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-07T01:34:59.796-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Blog" /><title>Desenlace</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4040375855467646091/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/desenlace.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/4040375855467646091?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/4040375855467646091?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/8PVgOgrG5lY/desenlace.html" title="Desenlace" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/czFF_54-a5ODnaFPv2HI1SHjZdU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/czFF_54-a5ODnaFPv2HI1SHjZdU/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/czFF_54-a5ODnaFPv2HI1SHjZdU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/czFF_54-a5ODnaFPv2HI1SHjZdU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;O tempo passou,   O olhar se perdeu,    O castelo desmoronou,    E seu amor não é mais meu  Não existem mais as flores,   Não existe mais a promessa,    Não existem mais as cores,    Não existe mais do futuro a pressa.  Aprenda a não pronunciar   O que não tem certeza...    Aprenda que o amar    Não consiste só na beleza.  Onde existe algo perfeito   Duvide a qualquer momento.    Desse modo não &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/8PVgOgrG5lY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/desenlace.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMNSHY7fCp7ImA9WxBUGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-538371491955913322</id><published>2010-02-09T23:45:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T01:34:59.804-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-07T01:34:59.804-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><title>O Cajado dos Escorpiões Negros</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/538371491955913322/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/o-cajado-dos-escorpioes-negros.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/538371491955913322?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/538371491955913322?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/G3AHm8lyltU/o-cajado-dos-escorpioes-negros.html" title="O Cajado dos Escorpiões Negros" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4YEf3nvVCLZsukK5iPDhyAQLXVw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4YEf3nvVCLZsukK5iPDhyAQLXVw/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/4YEf3nvVCLZsukK5iPDhyAQLXVw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4YEf3nvVCLZsukK5iPDhyAQLXVw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Palavras vans,    promessas de sua doença.     Rota de fuga ou carrossel,     qual o poder de sua crença?  Diria ardilosa    façanha algoz     Destemida a peçonhenta mosca azul     talvez intrigante ou mais feroz.  Bicho sem arrimo, colarinho neve    Coagula sentimentos a seu querer     nula escrúpulos, vazio espírito     vaga atrás do níquel verde, poder.  Palheta branca, escorpiões negros    &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/G3AHm8lyltU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/o-cajado-dos-escorpioes-negros.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYAQHo6fyp7ImA9WxBUGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-1052059480477099297</id><published>2010-02-06T22:30:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T01:45:41.417-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-07T01:45:41.417-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="reflexição" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="solidão" /><title>Quando estamos sós...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1052059480477099297/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/quando-estamos-sos.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1052059480477099297?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1052059480477099297?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/RCMgFR5uj4I/quando-estamos-sos.html" title="Quando estamos sós..." /><author><name>Aline Almeida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13304459597211771264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NFAbcMYTVYA/Tn9bsdjqtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/_1l0HN1h6Y4/s220/Foto0366.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1lC1TJuuMFnjRPt-F93hHJsN500/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1lC1TJuuMFnjRPt-F93hHJsN500/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1lC1TJuuMFnjRPt-F93hHJsN500/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1lC1TJuuMFnjRPt-F93hHJsN500/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Solidão é algo difícil de se explicar, entender, suportar e vivenciar.Não estar na companhia de outras pessoas, não significa estarmos sós: e a reciproca também é verdadeira.Diversas vezes buscamos estar longe das pessoas, por diversos motivos: refletir, se acalmar, se concentrar, ler, ouvir musicas, compor, escrever, extravazar emoções ou até mesmo para simplesmente aproveitarmos nossa própria &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/RCMgFR5uj4I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/quando-estamos-sos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYAQHo5cCp7ImA9WxBUGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-1940724142829576636</id><published>2010-02-03T00:04:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T01:45:41.428-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-07T01:45:41.428-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="expectativas e aproveitar" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relacionamentos" /><title>Não somos ilhas</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1940724142829576636/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/nao-somos-ilhas.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1940724142829576636?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/1940724142829576636?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/aszRANNHzrk/nao-somos-ilhas.html" title="Não somos ilhas" /><author><name>Aline Almeida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13304459597211771264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NFAbcMYTVYA/Tn9bsdjqtwI/AAAAAAAAAEE/_1l0HN1h6Y4/s220/Foto0366.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ajvrh0YTF77JUjoYeztvZ28zNJE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ajvrh0YTF77JUjoYeztvZ28zNJE/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/Ajvrh0YTF77JUjoYeztvZ28zNJE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ajvrh0YTF77JUjoYeztvZ28zNJE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Nenhum homem é uma ilha, logo o ser humano precisa se relacionar, não necessariamente no sentido amoroso.Mas, o quão desesperadora a busca por um relacionamento pode se tornar...A capacidade criativa do ser humano faz com que ele, muitas vezes, idealize como será, quais serão os pontos positivos, os melhores momentos e até mesmo as dificuldades, esquecendo-se de que haverá um outro alguém &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/aszRANNHzrk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/02/nao-somos-ilhas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMNSHY5fCp7ImA9WxBUGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-4511918271144785210</id><published>2010-01-31T02:56:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T01:34:59.824-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-07T01:34:59.824-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Blog" /><title>Amargura da Procura a Um Amor</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4511918271144785210/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/01/amargura-da-procura-um-amor.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/4511918271144785210?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/4511918271144785210?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/b1_B_eXGm5I/amargura-da-procura-um-amor.html" title="Amargura da Procura a Um Amor" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gsO8zsyAS2claKnk4QxNn__b4gs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gsO8zsyAS2claKnk4QxNn__b4gs/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/gsO8zsyAS2claKnk4QxNn__b4gs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gsO8zsyAS2claKnk4QxNn__b4gs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Sonhos ou ilusões?   Ilusões ou pensamentos?    Pensamentos são fatos?    Ou fatos são pensamentos?  Não se jogue no mar por orgulho ou dor,   ou se mate por amor.    Não rasgo um poema,    mas por você troco flor por um dilema.  Não importa o que aconteça,   você não sai da minha cabeça.    Revira meus versos inevitáveis,    nos disfarces mais amáveis.  Já perdi as chances de conquista,   já &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/b1_B_eXGm5I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/01/amargura-da-procura-um-amor.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMNSHY4eCp7ImA9WxBUGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3751093080808131496.post-2390381693239112019</id><published>2010-01-29T01:15:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T01:34:59.830-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-07T01:34:59.830-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Indrisos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><title>Chuva</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2390381693239112019/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/01/chuva.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/2390381693239112019?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3751093080808131496/posts/default/2390381693239112019?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~3/OtUZDF2ghrg/chuva.html" title="Chuva" /><author><name>Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08472907228286210575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="27" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44vTTwRSnC4/Tr0FFXpa6mI/AAAAAAAABGY/JTuIexyg60Q/s220/viniciusarnom.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d1NFbMvJnQeCTvvYTN7PjgB8wg8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d1NFbMvJnQeCTvvYTN7PjgB8wg8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d1NFbMvJnQeCTvvYTN7PjgB8wg8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d1NFbMvJnQeCTvvYTN7PjgB8wg8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A chuva lá fora    e como a tristeza     tristeza que não vai embora.  Como o sopro do vento    é algo inevitável     inevitável sentimento.  O que acontece?  Mente, por favor, esquece!     Autor: Vinicius Arnom Neves Diniz  &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Pensarcontextos/~4/OtUZDF2ghrg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://pensarcontextos.blogspot.com/2010/01/chuva.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

