<?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;CUQFSXY4fCp7ImA9WhRaE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:55:18.834-10:00</updated><category term="Erotismo" /><category term="Social" /><category term="Lirismo" /><category term="Crítica" /><category term="Conto" /><category term="Dicas" /><category term="Vida" /><category term="Crônica" /><category term="Resenha" /><category term="Rush" /><category term="Amor" /><category term="Poesia" /><category term="Livro" /><category term="Divulgação" /><category term="Obras" /><category term="Rio de Janeiro" /><category term="Percepções" /><category term="Música" /><category term="Romance" /><category term="Frases" /><category term="Anjos" /><category term="História" /><category term="Ela" /><category term="Carinhos" /><category term="Cursos" /><category term="Imagens" /><category term="Contos" /><category term="Trechos" /><category term="Cotidiano" /><category term="Metrô" /><title>Rascunhos na Net</title><subtitle type="html">&lt;b&gt;Escritos com o fígado!&lt;/b&gt;
Espaço para escrever e pensar sem stress! Escritas livres.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>129</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/RascunhosNaNet" /><feedburner:info uri="rascunhosnanet" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcMQX4zfSp7ImA9WhRRGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-8244798377922753289</id><published>2011-12-03T16:47:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T16:51:20.085-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-03T16:51:20.085-10:00</app:edited><title>O sentido - primeira versão</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/8244798377922753289/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=8244798377922753289&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/8244798377922753289?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/8244798377922753289?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/lazsHT-JEfI/o-sentido-primeira-versao.html" title="O sentido - primeira versão" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Sempre nos teus olhos olharei
Nas minhas visões de amor neles estão contidos
Que tardam de dor nas pupilas dilatadas
Que venham me mostrar a felicidade
Vejo em tudo em você
Que ressabia na tristeza
Que fugudios estão ciliares
Se abrem e fecham, vida e morte
Percebem a luz e escondem a solidão
Dos brilhos é possível em sua ausência
Num piscar que emolduram o sentimento
De que já não se pode mais 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vhHCZAmneYbbMYlcPTspqeGFM9w/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vhHCZAmneYbbMYlcPTspqeGFM9w/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/vhHCZAmneYbbMYlcPTspqeGFM9w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vhHCZAmneYbbMYlcPTspqeGFM9w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/lazsHT-JEfI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2011/12/o-sentido-primeira-versao.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkADRH89fCp7ImA9WhdaFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-6285992506407010585</id><published>2011-10-26T07:06:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T07:06:15.164-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-26T07:06:15.164-10:00</app:edited><title>Perdida em algum lugar do passado</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/6285992506407010585/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=6285992506407010585&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/6285992506407010585?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/6285992506407010585?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/9L1_moVbvHw/perdida-em-algum-lugar-do-passado.html" title="Perdida em algum lugar do passado" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Aos poucos vai se lembrando das coisas
Das que me fazem
Das que desfazem
Daquelas boas e das ruins
Ainda as guardo dentro de mim, no íntimo
E se sente mesmo que à distância
Parece que estou ali
Tudo é captado numa simples vírgula
Mas, acho que nem precisa dela
Vem pelo ar
É telepático

Vem da energia que se propaga
Basta 
Um pensamento
Um sentimento
Até outro dia?
E esse alcance se faz presente


&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/quZOQWenFakNmL7joglAl6GD25Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/quZOQWenFakNmL7joglAl6GD25Q/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/quZOQWenFakNmL7joglAl6GD25Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/quZOQWenFakNmL7joglAl6GD25Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/9L1_moVbvHw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2011/10/perdida-em-algum-lugar-do-passado.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8ERHoyeSp7ImA9WhdVFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-560787383711175716</id><published>2011-09-19T07:48:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T07:53:25.491-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-19T07:53:25.491-10:00</app:edited><title>O Sentido da Vida</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/560787383711175716/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=560787383711175716&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/560787383711175716?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/560787383711175716?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/IFQOVOpQ-wE/o-sentido-da-vida.html" title="O Sentido da Vida" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Necessito de você no meu mundoNecessito de ver você feliz!Necessito, pois te amoDe amor verdadeiroE ver seus olhos brilhando não há nada que se igualeDe sentir meu coração palpitando e trêmuloNão há que se pareçaDa angústia e do amorDe sentir muito e também ser sentidoDe estar no mesmo sentidoPois, te sentir é muito bom (é além dos próprios sentidos)Contigo é completoÉ sintonia de corações, de 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UQflt7EZbNPS5f_aZCUIoq4cOIE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UQflt7EZbNPS5f_aZCUIoq4cOIE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/IFQOVOpQ-wE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2011/09/o-sentido-da-vida.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUFQ38-fCp7ImA9Wx9XEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-6583985400617222027</id><published>2011-01-04T03:36:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T03:36:52.154-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-04T03:36:52.154-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Social" /><title>UPPs e a verdade dos números</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/6583985400617222027/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=6583985400617222027&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/6583985400617222027?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/6583985400617222027?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/Yyi9zRMBW6k/upps-e-verdade-dos-numeros.html" title="UPPs e a verdade dos números" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ozidAhATfs/TSMhMX9RyCI/AAAAAAAAAOM/1Cjdzwpi0IM/s72-c/156300_185212164828493_100000191322327_713887_7829024_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html"> Não que se seja contra as instalações das UPPs mas a verdade dos números nos mostra uma realidade muito diferente do que o senso comum indica. As UPPs de alguma forma trazem suas benesses: são as UPPs sociais – talvez um dos grandes agregados – a sensação de tranqüilidade, que não pode ser desprezada pela importante influência psicológica, a aproximação da comunidade e principalmente a redução 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vO-GR_rNG-gblr97fnh9qwDc4Wc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vO-GR_rNG-gblr97fnh9qwDc4Wc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/Yyi9zRMBW6k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2011/01/upps-e-verdade-dos-numeros.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYDQn4zfSp7ImA9Wx5XFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-7552124767998659908</id><published>2010-09-14T06:49:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T06:52:53.085-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-14T06:52:53.085-10:00</app:edited><title>És Tu</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/7552124767998659908/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=7552124767998659908&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/7552124767998659908?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/7552124767998659908?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/rZOLH4_eIZA/es-tu.html" title="És Tu" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Persigo seus olharesSei que parece meio bravaMas fazer o quê?Seus olhos me perseguemE sua presença é inquestionávelPele claraCabelos lisosE olhos que buscamA retorcer o lençolAmassando-oEspreme-seFecha os olhos e sente.Abre vagarosamenteOlhando-me e brilhando em contentamentosSorri com o corpo todoRi agora de satisfação.Mostra-se mais que nua estandoInvado-a em mais um ímpetoUm misto de dor e 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/awOo34K1Vg-GF0G9mIUKEtJmZnE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/awOo34K1Vg-GF0G9mIUKEtJmZnE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/rZOLH4_eIZA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2010/09/es-tu.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYBRXo-eyp7ImA9Wx5SF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-6969679207325915242</id><published>2010-08-13T08:19:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T08:29:14.453-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-13T08:29:14.453-10:00</app:edited><title>Penitência</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/6969679207325915242/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=6969679207325915242&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/6969679207325915242?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/6969679207325915242?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/GvU-4xjesqg/penitencia.html" title="Penitência" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Por penitência atravessei a cidade à pé.Por penitência ignorei minha dor.Por penitência me exasperei em desespero.Por penitência enfrentei o medo.Por penitência me desesperei.Por penitência briguei, lutei e me machuquei................Por penitência chorei, solucei, me acabei................Por penitência fiz tudo de ruim que era possível................Por penitência me recriei................
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zjc45TYorztzZhUcdJHQK-Z6LxA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zjc45TYorztzZhUcdJHQK-Z6LxA/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/zjc45TYorztzZhUcdJHQK-Z6LxA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zjc45TYorztzZhUcdJHQK-Z6LxA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/GvU-4xjesqg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2010/08/penitencia.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQHSHo6eCp7ImA9Wx5TEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-1276615020805764242</id><published>2010-07-27T03:28:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T03:28:59.410-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-27T03:28:59.410-10:00</app:edited><title>Tomado</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/1276615020805764242/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=1276615020805764242&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/1276615020805764242?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/1276615020805764242?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/24WR699mCPY/tomado.html" title="Tomado" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">A pele macia, no toque a vibração do coração, a taquicardia decorrente da proximidade de um maior contato mais íntimo lhe causava suores. Seu corpo reagia de maneira aparentemente desordenada, a cena tomava conta de seus pensamentos e suas ações, tremia ao mesmo tempo que sua cabeça só elaborava o próximo passo. Avançava cautelosamente, suas mãos percorriam as pernas até chegar à curva das 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cArG9VBnLp2kE67K4BXnez4kLiE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cArG9VBnLp2kE67K4BXnez4kLiE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/24WR699mCPY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2010/07/tomado.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0AARHkzfCp7ImA9WxFaEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-6241501090241875217</id><published>2010-07-13T05:40:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T05:42:25.784-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-13T05:42:25.784-10:00</app:edited><title>Assassino</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/6241501090241875217/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=6241501090241875217&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/6241501090241875217?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/6241501090241875217?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/H4A2OowTly8/assassino.html" title="Assassino" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Sou assassino. Andando perdido pelas vielas, olhando desconfiando de todos e desejando sangue. Desvio-me para outro lado, e num gesto mais áspero, olho aquele e já o odeio e quero o morto. Tenho pena dos que atravessam a minha frente, pois morrerão como moscas. A vida deles não tem valor algum para mim. Até mesmo eu surpreendo-me com a frieza dos meus atos. Na verdade nem sei o que pode passar 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5IMTvfNXoKa2dQUuoQ2I3pPw8lo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5IMTvfNXoKa2dQUuoQ2I3pPw8lo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/H4A2OowTly8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2010/07/assassino.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcGSXgyeyp7ImA9WxBXFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-5394392795079678920</id><published>2010-01-27T03:28:00.007-10:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T03:47:08.693-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-27T03:47:08.693-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Conto" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Erotismo" /><title>Nahe</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/5394392795079678920/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=5394392795079678920&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/5394392795079678920?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/5394392795079678920?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/30J5HlP-Mko/nahe.html" title="Nahe" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Encontrei-a no carnaval, estava surpreendentemente sozinha. De shortinho de pano um pouco folgado (e blusinha vermelha) como era seu estilo, com seus passos deixada ora mostrar um pouco mais, ora escondia alguns dos objetos do seu desenho. No entanto, a indumentária, de jeito meio amassado, não deixava de dar uma visão erótica de como era seu bumbum, pequeno, firme e redondinho. Ela sempre me 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yTu1b4Hzj4crMspLCkkX67kOtlQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yTu1b4Hzj4crMspLCkkX67kOtlQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/30J5HlP-Mko" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2010/01/nahe.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkANRXs4fyp7ImA9WxBXEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-5680373245193270988</id><published>2010-01-20T10:25:00.018-10:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T08:26:34.537-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-22T08:26:34.537-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Conto" /><title>Processo de Criação - Rascunho - Versão 1.0 - O dia que virá amanhã nunca mais virá</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/5680373245193270988/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=5680373245193270988&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/5680373245193270988?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/5680373245193270988?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/sR5eQMsMmQU/processo-de-criacao-rascunho-versao-10.html" title="Processo de Criação - Rascunho - Versão 1.0 - O dia que virá amanhã nunca mais virá" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0ozidAhATfs/S1dnDvGuUnI/AAAAAAAAANg/lAYHRfA3JQg/s72-c/artwork_images_424079215_306075_-zhangfazhi.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">O dia é hoje, amanhã ainda virá. Seus atos refletirão amanhã e por resto de suas vidas, o ontem ficará dentro do armário atrás do espelho. Essas mesmas ações só serão retiradas se o vento passar e abrir a porta ou se alguém meter o bedelho. Situações de impasse acontecem a todo o momento, daquelas em que nos perguntamos: “o que faço agora?”. Certa vez, em Barbacena, interior do estado de Minas 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PF4Q1w2f46TskxzDxxgpXqzeDng/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PF4Q1w2f46TskxzDxxgpXqzeDng/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/sR5eQMsMmQU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2010/01/processo-de-criacao-rascunho-versao-10.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8NSHs-cCp7ImA9WxBQGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-1580373538269766943</id><published>2010-01-18T09:18:00.016-10:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T09:44:59.558-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-18T09:44:59.558-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Livro" /><title>Achei!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/1580373538269766943/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=1580373538269766943&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/1580373538269766943?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/1580373538269766943?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/UQ-uj7Pz7uY/achei.html" title="Achei!" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0ozidAhATfs/S1S45L_Mo3I/AAAAAAAAANY/yLTZm17gxNc/s72-c/errosnuncamais.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Achado o livro: “Erros Nunca Mais” de Ivo Korytowski, no qual o lexicólogo faz uma coletânea dos principais desacertos encontrados em português e melhor, mostra como se vacinar contra eles.E como tudo na vida pode ser visto como uma história, o episódio do encontro com o livro não poderia mais interessante. Olhando (e buscando), recostado ao gradil de uma livraria, que faz a divisória entre 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ya38YG8IAw2A-AtiSrUWo4UVAow/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ya38YG8IAw2A-AtiSrUWo4UVAow/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/UQ-uj7Pz7uY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2010/01/achei.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EASX0_eip7ImA9WxNaEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-4062590040830062454</id><published>2009-11-26T02:43:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T02:47:28.342-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-26T02:47:28.342-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Imagens" /><title>Sorriso</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/4062590040830062454/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=4062590040830062454&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/4062590040830062454?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/4062590040830062454?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/1SxkA-m2hLA/sorriso.html" title="Sorriso" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0ozidAhATfs/Sw54fLExIxI/AAAAAAAAAMA/3AYdfKUGetE/s72-c/artwork_images_160529_276570_roy-lichtenstein.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">A beleza está no sorrisoBelo e cativanteQue mostra a perfeição do momento eAo mesmo tempo o estado de espíritoLivre e alegreLibertoAbertoSem mistérios a esconderDe felicidadeSem medoNa mente tudo o que se passaE no rosto seu reflexoDo interiorDa almaMomentosDaqueles que guardamos para sempre em nossa memóriaQue jamais nos esquecemosFechadinho num envelopeLacrado dentro do coraçãoMomento único em 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xGZ4EutRcDucHStX2_QS5-uwx3c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xGZ4EutRcDucHStX2_QS5-uwx3c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/1SxkA-m2hLA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2009/11/sorriso.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YNRX86cCp7ImA9WxNaEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-3292756662082288302</id><published>2009-11-26T02:35:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T02:39:54.118-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-26T02:39:54.118-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Percepções" /><title>Música e você</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/3292756662082288302/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=3292756662082288302&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/3292756662082288302?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/3292756662082288302?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/0_O8Gbs31A8/musica-e-voce.html" title="Música e você" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0ozidAhATfs/Sw52wnFGWkI/AAAAAAAAAL4/kWzmMqA--Dg/s72-c/artwork_images_424187294_185726_manfred-menz.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Sempre acreditei que as pessoas são um pouco do que gostamAssim como se diz: “você é o que você que come”Penso da mesma forma para a músicaO ritmo e a melodia, às vezes até a letra, mas fundamentalmente a melodiaTem músicas que mesmo sem a letra já nos transportam um sentimentoTristes, alegres, fortes, ritmadas, nas batidas, nas vozes e estamos tomados pela músicaInexplicávelMexe com a gente, sem
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WyQB8j9xNOCJTXMQ_oXgERw33go/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WyQB8j9xNOCJTXMQ_oXgERw33go/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/0_O8Gbs31A8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2009/11/musica-e-voce.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQEQno-eyp7ImA9WxNUFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-8216806282528766479</id><published>2009-11-07T12:16:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T12:35:03.453-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-07T12:35:03.453-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Percepções" /><title>Rio</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/8216806282528766479/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=8216806282528766479&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/8216806282528766479?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/8216806282528766479?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/quKtWuic3RY/rio.html" title="Rio" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0ozidAhATfs/SvXyL-XhscI/AAAAAAAAALc/uPy4OW_bfnE/s72-c/artwork_images_884_191781_charles-baker.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Cingi-se o largo rio sob um céu de luaSob a planta a galera que...NavegoNavegoNos lados, folhas escuras assombramA claridão está no reflexo que me acompanhaAngústia pelo que fica para trásE o que está por vir?Triste é a vidaNum lampejo e tudo se vaiMas, continuo a navegarEm meu mundinhoSó percebendo às margens RioRioE choroQuadro: obra de Charles Baker (Sunset by the Lake)
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tnWYNIlNcVjkYaNJiV-Gw7qLa-s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tnWYNIlNcVjkYaNJiV-Gw7qLa-s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/quKtWuic3RY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2009/11/rio.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQGR38zfyp7ImA9WxNUFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-7328308704278024680</id><published>2009-11-07T12:12:00.004-10:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T12:35:26.187-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-07T12:35:26.187-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Percepções" /><title>Descoisas</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/7328308704278024680/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=7328308704278024680&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/7328308704278024680?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/7328308704278024680?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/7jRfPXbFfEk/descoisas.html" title="Descoisas" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0ozidAhATfs/SvXxGx0ESnI/AAAAAAAAALU/JMJbU-X_imw/s72-c/artwork_images_153_7942_otis-kaye.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">DesconstruirPreparar a argamassaCimentar a idéiaJuntar-seDefinir-se na sua casaDa porta às janelasDos olhos ao coraçãoA boca em conjugaçãoConjugados de quarto e salaNão ficou bomPegar a marreta-borracha e pôr tudo abaixoQuadro: obra de Otis Kaye (Learn)
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H6mljAdrcukVf7m_-N4u45gsKsE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H6mljAdrcukVf7m_-N4u45gsKsE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/7jRfPXbFfEk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2009/11/descoisas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUECQHg_cSp7ImA9WxJSEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-7749510828520607761</id><published>2009-04-29T07:49:00.004-10:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T07:54:21.649-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-29T07:54:21.649-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Crítica" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Crônica" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cotidiano" /><title>Políticos x Ratos</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/7749510828520607761/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=7749510828520607761&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/7749510828520607761?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/7749510828520607761?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/x64VYTU37vM/politicos-x-ratos.html" title="Políticos x Ratos" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0ozidAhATfs/SfiTc9S4IcI/AAAAAAAAALE/94NJHfBAQWE/s72-c/rato_desenho_02.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">            Muito se compara político com rato. Parece uma injustiça. Aos ratos! Os roedores vivem pelas ruas catando comida hora aqui hora ali. Estão sempre em lugares onde não há luxo só lixo. São perseguidos por toda sorte e por bichos, inclusive os homens sejam bons ou maus. Permanecem por anos em masmorras e prisões, sem ao menos merecerem. Os políticos são outros bichos.            
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZwefGYxKJPPyNf38mRmopakgtzY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZwefGYxKJPPyNf38mRmopakgtzY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/x64VYTU37vM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2009/04/politicos-x-ratos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YCR3syfCp7ImA9WxVTFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-8099161332973871845</id><published>2008-12-29T01:10:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T01:12:46.594-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-29T01:12:46.594-10:00</app:edited><title>Recebi!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/8099161332973871845/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=8099161332973871845&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/8099161332973871845?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/8099161332973871845?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/49VNzDqws0g/recebi.html" title="Recebi!" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Recebi folhas enumeradas e preenchidas de alma. Criações do coração. Frutos do esforço e da perseverança que só os nobres têm.Primeiro dos sonhos a realizar. De um caráter ímpar e uma mente multidisciplinar. Cabeça de cálculos, mas fundamentada na emoção. Do deslizar os dedos pela tela ainda virgem, branca e desejosa de boas histórias. Criador das fabulosas idéias e poesias.Recebi, li e 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/L5kkkCjVNGsguN9kFQ1uM__2vZ0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/L5kkkCjVNGsguN9kFQ1uM__2vZ0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/L5kkkCjVNGsguN9kFQ1uM__2vZ0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/L5kkkCjVNGsguN9kFQ1uM__2vZ0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/49VNzDqws0g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2008/12/recebi.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EMQ3Y-cCp7ImA9WxVTEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-8975516677869996812</id><published>2008-12-23T00:41:00.004-10:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T00:54:42.858-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-23T00:54:42.858-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Contos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Metrô" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rio de Janeiro" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rush" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Conto" /><title>Tragédia no Metrô do Rio de Janeiro</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/8975516677869996812/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=8975516677869996812&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/8975516677869996812?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/8975516677869996812?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/3bHlSt6s7Nw/tragdia-no-metr.html" title="Tragédia no Metrô do Rio de Janeiro" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">Eram seis horas, hora do rush e o metrô estava cheio, digo apinhado. As pessoas se espremiam, acotovelavam. Os mais sortudos estavam sentados ou encostados nas paredes, os demais sofriam a cada parada brusca ou movimento mais sacolejante. Alguns passavam em suas faces, o sofrimento, mas a maioria encarava de modo normal, cotidiano, quase como acordar e abrir os olhos – era parte da rotina e da 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M7C-tdbGAti51kN5k-huGdHyUxU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M7C-tdbGAti51kN5k-huGdHyUxU/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/M7C-tdbGAti51kN5k-huGdHyUxU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M7C-tdbGAti51kN5k-huGdHyUxU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/3bHlSt6s7Nw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2008/12/tragdia-no-metr.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8HQH0_fCp7ImA9WxRUF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-843593751687540701</id><published>2008-11-27T05:13:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T05:13:51.344-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-27T05:13:51.344-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Trechos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Vida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cotidiano" /><title>O Rádio e a Comunicação</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/843593751687540701/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=843593751687540701&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/843593751687540701?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/843593751687540701?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/qivu8OtmtsY/o-rdio-e-comunicao.html" title="O Rádio e a Comunicação" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Havia sete pessoas naquela casa. Era uma família moderna. Certo dia uma visita ligou o rádio e sintonizou numa estação que só tocava música clássica. Ninguém no lugar gostava desse tipo de sonoridade. Aquele lar se tornou mais calmo, sereno e inteligente. Todos tinham vergonha de desligar ou mudar para outra música. Os sete ignoravam totalmente quem teria ligado e colocado aquele som, mas nenhum 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ycFcyL62X-s6_cSy50rpfo7-6qw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ycFcyL62X-s6_cSy50rpfo7-6qw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/qivu8OtmtsY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2008/11/o-rdio-e-comunicao.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkICSHkyeip7ImA9WxRUEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-8480638056097468429</id><published>2008-11-19T02:42:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T02:42:49.792-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-19T02:42:49.792-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Contos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Vida" /><title>Ponto de Natal</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/8480638056097468429/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=8480638056097468429&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/8480638056097468429?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/8480638056097468429?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/15sR0w4R1Wg/ponto-de-natal.html" title="Ponto de Natal" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">.Mais um ponto.Contar mais um ponto. Um ponto a favor.A favor da solidariedade. Em favor da paz. Contra a pobreza.Em benefício do bem estar.Para melhorar a vida. Aliviar os sofrimentos. Ajudar o amor..Ponto de Natal.O melhor ponto de Natal para um melhor conto de Natal.Dentro de cada coração..Ponto.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Mj38pCKyuOJNQe_ftjE-pjQbhCQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Mj38pCKyuOJNQe_ftjE-pjQbhCQ/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/Mj38pCKyuOJNQe_ftjE-pjQbhCQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Mj38pCKyuOJNQe_ftjE-pjQbhCQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/15sR0w4R1Wg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2008/11/ponto-de-natal.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQDQXs7eip7ImA9WxdWFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-7907669984997512543</id><published>2008-07-08T11:24:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T11:26:10.502-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-08T11:26:10.502-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lirismo" /><title>United Colors</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/7907669984997512543/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=7907669984997512543&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/7907669984997512543?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/7907669984997512543?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/0dWT7w6UsUM/united-colors.html" title="United Colors" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Maria, menina doce, mas bravia. Em tons claros de pele se pronunciava. Nos pretos se vestia. Em minha mão adormecia.Cintilava nos raios do dia. Aqui e ali em peito batia. Do roxo não gostava. Da morte ela o achava.Criaturinha pequena e roliça. Do alto da janela pensava. O velho apartamento já soluçava. Até nas portas, as quebradiças.Nos olhares brilhantes. O coração fervia e a pele. Carinho e 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NcrNnTXvQlP0ML8FSZfg5kpYFes/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NcrNnTXvQlP0ML8FSZfg5kpYFes/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/NcrNnTXvQlP0ML8FSZfg5kpYFes/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NcrNnTXvQlP0ML8FSZfg5kpYFes/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/0dWT7w6UsUM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2008/07/united-colors.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEDR3Y5cCp7ImA9WxdRFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-4495656205755906718</id><published>2008-06-02T13:12:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T13:17:56.828-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-06-02T13:17:56.828-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ela" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amor" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Vida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Erotismo" /><title>Depoimento</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/4495656205755906718/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=4495656205755906718&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/4495656205755906718?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/4495656205755906718?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/y8jsx9tCz_U/depoimento.html" title="Depoimento" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Fê,em sua pele me pego em devaneios, deslizo minhas mãos pelas penugens das coxas para devagarinho teu sexo encontrar. Molhada, trôpega, tremendo em prazeres sinto seu corpo num toque meu. Arrepios dos pêlos das pontas dos dedos meus provocados. Assinto com o meu membro que rispidamente se endurece num contato com suas leves e pequeninas mãos. Me junto a você e de vontades nos conduzimos. Num 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gaR0C_R7XWCaYun5aXZfTh1yJfs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gaR0C_R7XWCaYun5aXZfTh1yJfs/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/gaR0C_R7XWCaYun5aXZfTh1yJfs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gaR0C_R7XWCaYun5aXZfTh1yJfs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/y8jsx9tCz_U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2008/06/depoimento.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MEQH4zfip7ImA9WxZaGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-4683941821493435931</id><published>2008-05-04T03:55:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T03:56:41.086-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-04T03:56:41.086-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="História" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Resenha" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Obras" /><title>Resenha - A Revolução Alemã – Mitos e Versões, Daniel Aarão Reis Filho</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/4683941821493435931/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=4683941821493435931&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/4683941821493435931?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/4683941821493435931?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/pE8OVXEx020/resenha-revoluo-alem-mitos-e-verses.html" title="Resenha - A Revolução Alemã – Mitos e Versões, Daniel Aarão Reis Filho" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">CapítulosIntrodução a uma derrotaOs assaltos ao céuUma revolução traída?Capitalismo e classe operária na AlemanhaAdeus à classe operária?IntroduçãoO estudo sobre as revoluções sempre mereceram destaque. Em especial as lutas socialistas, que têm ao longo de muitos anos recebido atenção mais que redobrada. A revolução alemã segue um pouco desse rito, ou seria mito? A busca pelas explicações aos 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/10djNOBAS8eQMza9OMkiSmt-yqA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/10djNOBAS8eQMza9OMkiSmt-yqA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/pE8OVXEx020" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2008/05/resenha-revoluo-alem-mitos-e-verses.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UERHw_fyp7ImA9WxZVFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-4291081247973412226</id><published>2008-03-27T10:53:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T10:53:25.247-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-03-27T10:53:25.247-10:00</app:edited><title>No meu caminho</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/4291081247973412226/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=4291081247973412226&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/4291081247973412226?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/4291081247973412226?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/Arw3ovNXQQQ/no-meu-caminho.html" title="No meu caminho" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Fê, se no meu caminho encontro-te é sinal de felicidade.E nos pequenos detalhes me apercebo do amor.Olho-te profundamente e o verde está lá.O mesmo que me aproximou dos olhares teus.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gosayL060jBv9WcJEU8rcikoQOc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gosayL060jBv9WcJEU8rcikoQOc/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/gosayL060jBv9WcJEU8rcikoQOc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gosayL060jBv9WcJEU8rcikoQOc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/Arw3ovNXQQQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2008/03/no-meu-caminho.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUICRnczcCp7ImA9WxZVEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2880414200531599463.post-4171752169924563330</id><published>2008-03-19T07:07:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T13:52:47.988-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-03-21T13:52:47.988-10:00</app:edited><title>Fê - VII</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/feeds/4171752169924563330/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2880414200531599463&amp;postID=4171752169924563330&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/4171752169924563330?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2880414200531599463/posts/default/4171752169924563330?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~3/_v2cpcIij18/f-vii.html" title="Fê - VII" /><author><name>Carlos Zev Solano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07784882818315651406</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0ozidAhATfs/R8GfycOWAHI/AAAAAAAAAHw/vtLZkdZp3cc/S220/CZevS.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Menina  brilha e reluz, preciosa alegria d'alma, felicidade que me  conduz!
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vClnePvwj7QaD4gLAKFwcRpEYlU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vClnePvwj7QaD4gLAKFwcRpEYlU/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/vClnePvwj7QaD4gLAKFwcRpEYlU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vClnePvwj7QaD4gLAKFwcRpEYlU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RascunhosNaNet/~4/_v2cpcIij18" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://rascunhosnanet.blogspot.com/2008/03/f-vii.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

