<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><rss xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" version="2.0"><channel><title>SORVEDOURO</title><description>Sou abismo, sou redemoinho, sou sorvedouro.</description><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</managingEditor><pubDate>Thu, 19 Sep 2024 16:29:39 -0300</pubDate><generator>Blogger http://www.blogger.com</generator><openSearch:totalResults xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/">18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/">1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/">25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/</link><language>en-us</language><itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit><itunes:subtitle>Sou abismo, sou redemoinho, sou sorvedouro.</itunes:subtitle><itunes:category text="Society &amp; Culture"><itunes:category text="Personal Journals"/></itunes:category><itunes:category text="Comedy"/><itunes:category text="Government &amp; Organizations"/><itunes:owner><itunes:email>lidianepereira@hotmail.com</itunes:email></itunes:owner><item><title>Meow</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2011/02/meow.html</link><pubDate>Fri, 18 Feb 2011 18:37:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-594130804344307403</guid><description>&lt;object height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.portacurtas.com.br/embed/embed.swf?xml=1&amp;Cod=811&amp;exib=9827"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.portacurtas.com.br/embed/embed.swf?xml=1&amp;Cod=811&amp;exib=9827" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Teu Belo</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2011/02/teu-belo.html</link><pubDate>Fri, 18 Feb 2011 16:39:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-3133649500279117395</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8lOIbuqXq-o/TGMajdquB4I/AAAAAAAAEz4/gxgRIKaYl-c/s1600/blog_mascara+veneziana_M.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8lOIbuqXq-o/TGMajdquB4I/AAAAAAAAEz4/gxgRIKaYl-c/s1600/blog_mascara+veneziana_M.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A beleza da alma&lt;br /&gt;
Inquietante pertubação.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fraude imperceptível&lt;br /&gt;
Corrupção constante.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Teu belo esconde&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Margem ténue&lt;br /&gt;
Máscara insensível.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Enigma da fronteira&lt;br /&gt;
Terra sem direção.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Teu belo omite&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Um eu verdadeiro&lt;br /&gt;
Caos e destruição.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Aparente serenidade&lt;br /&gt;
Representação sem palco.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Teu belo oculta&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Preso em amarras&lt;br /&gt;
Na escura masmorra.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Caminheiro semeia paz&lt;br /&gt;
Escondido está um obscuro coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;Helvetica&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;(Zara Aidê)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;Helvetica&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Georgia&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8lOIbuqXq-o/TGMajdquB4I/AAAAAAAAEz4/gxgRIKaYl-c/s72-c/blog_mascara+veneziana_M.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>ILHA DAS FLORES</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2011/02/ilha-das-flores.html</link><pubDate>Thu, 17 Feb 2011 14:18:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-5769878704719391634</guid><description>Documentário que relata a trajetória de um tomate na sociedade de consumo, mostra um retrato triste da desigualdade social e da pseudo-liberdade.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;object height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.portacurtas.com.br/embed/embed.swf?xml=1&amp;Cod=647&amp;exib=9827"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.portacurtas.com.br/embed/embed.swf?xml=1&amp;Cod=647&amp;exib=9827" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gênero Documentário, Experimental &lt;br /&gt;
Diretor Jorge Furtado &lt;br /&gt;
Elenco Ciça Reckziegel &lt;br /&gt;
Ano 1989&lt;br /&gt;
Duração 13 min&lt;br /&gt;
Cor Colorido&lt;br /&gt;
Bitola 35mm&lt;br /&gt;
País Brasil &lt;br /&gt;
Local de Produção: RS&lt;br /&gt;
Ficha Técnica&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Produção Mônica Schmiedt, Giba Assis Brasil, Nôra Gulart Fotografia Roberto Henkin, Sérgio Amon Roteiro Jorge Furtado Edição Giba Assis Brasil Direção de Arte Fiapo Barth Trilha original Geraldo Flach Narração Paulo José&lt;br /&gt;
Fonte: &lt;a href="http://www.portacurtas.com.br/"&gt;Porta Curtas&lt;/a&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Clandestina Felicidade</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2011/02/clandestina-felicidade.html</link><pubDate>Thu, 17 Feb 2011 11:25:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-2100166489580402642</guid><description>&lt;object height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.portacurtas.com.br/embed/embed.swf?xml=1&amp;Cod=311&amp;exib=9827"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.portacurtas.com.br/embed/embed.swf?xml=1&amp;Cod=311&amp;exib=9827" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Gênero Ficção &lt;br /&gt;
Diretor Beto Normal, Marcelo Gomes &lt;br /&gt;
Elenco Luisa Phebo, Nathalia Corinthia, Luci Alcântara &lt;br /&gt;
Ano 1998&lt;br /&gt;
Duração 15 min&lt;br /&gt;
Cor P&amp;amp;B&lt;br /&gt;
Bitola 35mm&lt;br /&gt;
País Brasil &lt;br /&gt;
Local de Produção: PE&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fragmentos de infância, descoberta do mundo pelo olhar curioso, perplexo e profundo da criança-escritora Clarice Lispector.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fonte: &lt;a href="http://portacurtas.org.br"&gt;Porta Curtas&lt;/a&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Sentimento e sensações</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/12/sentimento-e-sensacoes.html</link><pubDate>Thu, 2 Dec 2010 14:45:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-1308946787422696464</guid><description>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqs_kKtWpzZhyphenhyphenvq8eR1eZFE4Erb3F_C2X42rha0omPhpupXDkAEltjxLxTxzm3FeDfejBXy65brWojoPpjI7AxvX170CLipEcZlRMjswbLoJfD6x9kZpfnTgZpQ6Q2C99OBUSG_PWfi5V/s1600/t.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqs_kKtWpzZhyphenhyphenvq8eR1eZFE4Erb3F_C2X42rha0omPhpupXDkAEltjxLxTxzm3FeDfejBXy65brWojoPpjI7AxvX170CLipEcZlRMjswbLoJfD6x9kZpfnTgZpQ6Q2C99OBUSG_PWfi5V/s320/t.bmp" width="254" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Tempo, assunto sem pretensão de ser&lt;br /&gt;
Passa o tempo, sementes germinam e a noite chega&lt;br /&gt;
Passado, que desconhecia tuas letras&lt;br /&gt;
Fotos antigas, papéis amarelados e postais&lt;br /&gt;
Prazer, sentir algo sem&amp;nbsp;ter&lt;br /&gt;
Risos estridentes, pêlos arrepiados e friozinho na barriga&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Arquivo, suposição de não conhecer&lt;br /&gt;
Porta, passos sem caminhar&lt;br /&gt;
Abrir, sem rasgar o papel&lt;br /&gt;
Ir, sem saber&lt;br /&gt;
Conhecer, sem imaginar&lt;br /&gt;
Enigma, tua face. &lt;/div&gt;</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqs_kKtWpzZhyphenhyphenvq8eR1eZFE4Erb3F_C2X42rha0omPhpupXDkAEltjxLxTxzm3FeDfejBXy65brWojoPpjI7AxvX170CLipEcZlRMjswbLoJfD6x9kZpfnTgZpQ6Q2C99OBUSG_PWfi5V/s72-c/t.bmp" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>O LOUCO</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/o-louco.html</link><pubDate>Mon, 29 Nov 2010 17:14:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-5365268514300671654</guid><description>&lt;div class="post-header"&gt;&lt;div class="post-header-line-1"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://foradomapa.dimambro.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/O-Louco1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="http://foradomapa.dimambro.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/O-Louco1.jpg" width="162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A experiência do imaginário dentro de uma realidade limitada&amp;nbsp;da mente. Uma vida circunscrita aos padrões de sanidade, o que é ser normal?&lt;br /&gt;
Pergunta-se um louco a si em seus poucos momentos de lucidez.&lt;br /&gt;
Sabia somente que seus poucos momentos de irritação e fragilidade estavam dentro da lucidez provocada por drogas medicamentosas.&lt;br /&gt;
Preocupava-se muito consigo e com os conceitos alheios nestes momentos, tinha uma vaga consciência que nas suas viagens cerebrais não preocupava-se tanto com o mundo exterior, com os acontecimentos, era muito mais feliz.&lt;br /&gt;
Ao menos não recordava-se de estar irritado ou preocupado, simplesmente viajava em suas personagens, podia ser tudo, astronauta, buda, artista famoso, motorista de trem, uma ave, um tigre, um presidente, enfim, tudo sem restrições, sem impedimentos.&lt;br /&gt;
Podia ser feliz… &lt;/div&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title/><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/sem-palavras-so-imagem-e-sentimento.html</link><pubDate>Sat, 27 Nov 2010 14:11:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-7678631888621753607</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9y4Fzn4B9LbIcChFGDXfEkmuofgTmIOp3UW8vBOqRh2CtyaDA170jpqFqT2qoQ9sB-ZOgR3HAFtsO-leQycUIcBkaoFt4RgwDqZKdXv-9fTVxNVOFjOgtDEW8Mmr6e_ukByV4XiKFfnu6/s400/choro-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9y4Fzn4B9LbIcChFGDXfEkmuofgTmIOp3UW8vBOqRh2CtyaDA170jpqFqT2qoQ9sB-ZOgR3HAFtsO-leQycUIcBkaoFt4RgwDqZKdXv-9fTVxNVOFjOgtDEW8Mmr6e_ukByV4XiKFfnu6/s320/choro-2.jpg" width="274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Sem palavras&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9y4Fzn4B9LbIcChFGDXfEkmuofgTmIOp3UW8vBOqRh2CtyaDA170jpqFqT2qoQ9sB-ZOgR3HAFtsO-leQycUIcBkaoFt4RgwDqZKdXv-9fTVxNVOFjOgtDEW8Mmr6e_ukByV4XiKFfnu6/s72-c/choro-2.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Órion</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/orion.html</link><pubDate>Thu, 25 Nov 2010 16:56:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-6257154043683133351</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://futurosastronomos.zip.net/images/orion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="http://futurosastronomos.zip.net/images/orion.jpg" width="299" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Olho as estrelas e separo o céu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Limito o universo em&amp;nbsp;imagens formadas entre estrelas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Procuro o caçador de Órion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Identifico a estação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Naxos começa a esfriar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Quero tua face no ombro de Órion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Delineado nos ângulos estrelares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Como uma criança que busca entender as origens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;O poder da criação, desvendar depois de tanto saber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Descobrir absolutamente nada sobre corpos celestes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Seu enigma, seu destino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Renascer&amp;nbsp;e voltar a infância esquecida dos descobrimentos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Das perguntas sem respostas absolutas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Da vida sem explicação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;E chego a balzaquia idade em um momento de contemplação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;E entendo que ainda sou uma criança sem respostas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>TEMPO</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/tempo.html</link><pubDate>Wed, 24 Nov 2010 20:13:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-5840752178923195472</guid><description>&lt;div class="post-header"&gt;&lt;div class="post-header-line-1"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GesCSyH4NnrE9ZqPFiF87kc1mMKnrQDlVVaCtGfHo_jgE8PgdZ6uO_0blFWTK0rSYVgqyN0u9LS8Gkg-MJuA0rNRlv0CzSntx6t127FubDgC_sajW_CYUHtkk4qRo82fKLjq0H5HZhFw/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GesCSyH4NnrE9ZqPFiF87kc1mMKnrQDlVVaCtGfHo_jgE8PgdZ6uO_0blFWTK0rSYVgqyN0u9LS8Gkg-MJuA0rNRlv0CzSntx6t127FubDgC_sajW_CYUHtkk4qRo82fKLjq0H5HZhFw/s320/1.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Preciso somente de tempo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saber quanto tempo leva&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Descobrir que o tempo não pará&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um tempo para dar tempo ao tempo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perder&amp;nbsp;tempo e ver o tempo passar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tempo para mudar e&amp;nbsp;pensar no tempo que vivi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tempo para pensar num futuro que pode nunca existir&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Preciso escrever sobre as horas, os minutos de ti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O tempo a ti, o tempo em si&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não encontro tempo para parar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ou não quero encontrar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tenho medo de pensar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;{Fortuna et Fortunae}&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GesCSyH4NnrE9ZqPFiF87kc1mMKnrQDlVVaCtGfHo_jgE8PgdZ6uO_0blFWTK0rSYVgqyN0u9LS8Gkg-MJuA0rNRlv0CzSntx6t127FubDgC_sajW_CYUHtkk4qRo82fKLjq0H5HZhFw/s72-c/1.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Alucinação</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/alucinacao.html</link><pubDate>Mon, 22 Nov 2010 21:17:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-8128486337706264507</guid><description>&lt;div class="post-header"&gt;&lt;div class="post-header-line-1"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYx0Gm_kFbgy8uc2mZhyphenhyphen4V1zL62EReBetsEwvuOqJaZ4NVXKi7rHF8H3PhR1UqffbpzEDAUVJVoW_E5ErdcbruBIHksyEQyGo1ZiCJ1RH3n2TnjDH1aBwaditASpf6m8-x4s9T10ueyOZ/s1600/DSC06732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYx0Gm_kFbgy8uc2mZhyphenhyphen4V1zL62EReBetsEwvuOqJaZ4NVXKi7rHF8H3PhR1UqffbpzEDAUVJVoW_E5ErdcbruBIHksyEQyGo1ZiCJ1RH3n2TnjDH1aBwaditASpf6m8-x4s9T10ueyOZ/s320/DSC06732.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Alucinação&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Cura para a indócil sobrevivência em sociedade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Trajeto para guiar-se na normalidade dos gritos da multidão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Viver&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Ser, &amp;nbsp;invólucro, matéria&amp;nbsp;entre vozes pertubadoras&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Sair descabido de bom senso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Entrar no louco padrão dos normais&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Procurar o céu para explicar a imensidão de pensamentos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Encontrar no universos perguntas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Errar a todo momento nas ruas, olhar vitrines e admirar a falsa liberdade dos cães.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Aprisionamento do discurso pronto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Redução das possibilidades&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Fantasia do não saber e do aprender a desconhecer as pessoas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Felicidade da inocência ou da ignorância pura&lt;/div&gt;</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYx0Gm_kFbgy8uc2mZhyphenhyphen4V1zL62EReBetsEwvuOqJaZ4NVXKi7rHF8H3PhR1UqffbpzEDAUVJVoW_E5ErdcbruBIHksyEQyGo1ZiCJ1RH3n2TnjDH1aBwaditASpf6m8-x4s9T10ueyOZ/s72-c/DSC06732.JPG" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Aqui Dentro</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/aqui-dentro.html</link><pubDate>Sun, 21 Nov 2010 15:37:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-6217193970409470264</guid><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Aqui dentro:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Jazia uma alma viva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Um rosto inexpressivo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Corpo sem reação.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Aqui dentro:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Aguardava sua chegada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Quem nunca veio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;E sempre ficará.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Aqui dentro:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Pressentia&amp;nbsp;a confusão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Os&amp;nbsp;sentimentos dúbios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Aqui dentro:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Agora, medo, pavor, confusão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Vigor, alegria, paixão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Encontrei-te amor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Páginas da vida</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/paginas-da-vida.html</link><pubDate>Sat, 20 Nov 2010 17:32:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-711279123399966242</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blog.noticiaweb.info/wp-content/uploads/livro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" ox="true" src="http://www.blog.noticiaweb.info/wp-content/uploads/livro.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Assim começa um livro, pelo fim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Recomeço&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fim de um história&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Início de uma vida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Término da trajetória&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ambiguidade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Assim começa um livro, pelo fim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;História nova&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Personagens de uma outra história&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Caminho novo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Releitura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Assim começa um livro, pelo fim de outro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Contos diversos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tramas e viagens&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desencontros sem fim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Final feliz&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;{Fortuna et Fortunae}&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: large;"&gt;“Love conquers all”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Ser eu</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/ser-eu.html</link><pubDate>Fri, 19 Nov 2010 21:22:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-959322737856052042</guid><description>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.paraorkut.com/img/papeldeparede/1024x768/n/noite-4459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="255" ox="true" src="http://images.paraorkut.com/img/papeldeparede/1024x768/n/noite-4459.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O brilho dolorido da estrela relata a implosão soturna da noite. Os seres ocultos emergem de seus esconderijos lançando-se sedentos a superfície escura. Vivem a procura da penumbra e tudo isto faz algum sentido para alguém. Eu alheia durmo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;{Fortuna et Fortunae}&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Simplesmente amo essa letra, 'Coisas que eu sei', compartilhando:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Eu quero ficar perto&lt;br /&gt;
De tudo que acho certo&lt;br /&gt;
Até o dia em que eu&lt;br /&gt;
Mudar de opinião&lt;br /&gt;
A minha experiência&lt;br /&gt;
Meu pacto com a ciência&lt;br /&gt;
Meu conhecimento&lt;br /&gt;
É minha distração...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Coisas que eu sei&lt;br /&gt;
Eu adivinho&lt;br /&gt;
Sem ninguém ter me contado&lt;br /&gt;
Coisas que eu sei&lt;br /&gt;
O meu rádio relógio&lt;br /&gt;
Mostra o tempo errado&lt;br /&gt;
Aperte o Play...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu gosto do meu quarto&lt;br /&gt;
Do meu desarrumado&lt;br /&gt;
Ninguém sabe mexer&lt;br /&gt;
Na minha confusão&lt;br /&gt;
É o meu ponto de vista&lt;br /&gt;
Não aceito turistas&lt;br /&gt;
Meu mundo tá fechado&lt;br /&gt;
Pra visitação...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Coisas que eu sei&lt;br /&gt;
O medo mora perto&lt;br /&gt;
Das idéias loucas&lt;br /&gt;
Coisas que eu sei&lt;br /&gt;
Se eu for eu vou assim&lt;br /&gt;
Não vou trocar de roupa&lt;br /&gt;
É minha lei...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu corto os meus dobrados&lt;br /&gt;
Acerto os meus pecados&lt;br /&gt;
Ninguém pergunta mais&lt;br /&gt;
Depois que eu já paguei&lt;br /&gt;
Eu vejo o filme em pausas&lt;br /&gt;
Eu imagino casas&lt;br /&gt;
Depois eu já nem lembro&lt;br /&gt;
Do que eu desenhei...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Coisas que eu sei&lt;br /&gt;
Não guardo mais agendas&lt;br /&gt;
No meu celular&lt;br /&gt;
Coisas que eu sei&lt;br /&gt;
Eu compro aparelhos&lt;br /&gt;
Que eu não sei usar&lt;br /&gt;
Eu já comprei...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As vezes dá preguiça&lt;br /&gt;
Na areia movediça&lt;br /&gt;
Quanto mais eu mexo&lt;br /&gt;
Mais afundo em mim&lt;br /&gt;
Eu moro num cenário&lt;br /&gt;
Do lado imaginário&lt;br /&gt;
Eu entro e saio sempre&lt;br /&gt;
Quando tô a fim...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Coisas que eu sei&lt;br /&gt;
As noites ficam claras&lt;br /&gt;
No raiar do dia&lt;br /&gt;
Coisas que eu sei&lt;br /&gt;
São coisas que antes&lt;br /&gt;
Eu somente não sabia...&lt;br /&gt;
Coisas que eu sei&lt;br /&gt;
As noites ficam claras&lt;br /&gt;
No raiar do dia&lt;br /&gt;
Coisas que eu sei&lt;br /&gt;
São coisas que antes&lt;br /&gt;
Eu somente não sabia...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Agora eu sei...&lt;br /&gt;
Agora eu sei...&lt;br /&gt;
Agora eu sei...&lt;br /&gt;
Ah! Ah! Agora eu sei...&lt;br /&gt;
Ah! Ah! Agora eu sei...&lt;br /&gt;
Ah! Ah! Agora eu sei...&lt;br /&gt;
Ah! Ah! Eu sei!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;( Coisas que eu sei, Composição: Dudu Falcão)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Prisão</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/prisao.html</link><pubDate>Thu, 18 Nov 2010 10:57:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-7690007757375392699</guid><description>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1K7I7h1kF7DfvapLlMQkuhfCUiXUxcJH-rHVTDT2MAVYZvXWa1Soxk_uurnf3irA2bVz3OmSOWUZBRwmQRIr8_OkQDQEk23wEbeHKXBMOsSt0MmQVSn2NhozaP2eAE4Qw-x1Ln86yWtFT/s1600/uyyytfjk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="298" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1K7I7h1kF7DfvapLlMQkuhfCUiXUxcJH-rHVTDT2MAVYZvXWa1Soxk_uurnf3irA2bVz3OmSOWUZBRwmQRIr8_OkQDQEk23wEbeHKXBMOsSt0MmQVSn2NhozaP2eAE4Qw-x1Ln86yWtFT/s320/uyyytfjk.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Flores presas na foto,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prisioneiras no tempo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não murcham nem despetalam&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Retratam o dia do encarceramento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;cores e folhas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;{Fortuna et Fortunae}&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;FLORES&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;﻿&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;"Olhei até ficar cansado&lt;br /&gt;
De ver os meus olhos no espelho&lt;br /&gt;
Chorei por ter despedaçado&lt;br /&gt;
As flores que estão no canteiro&lt;br /&gt;
Os punhos e os pulsos cortados&lt;br /&gt;
E o resto do meu corpo inteiro&lt;br /&gt;
Há flores cobrindo o telhado&lt;br /&gt;
E embaixo do meu travesseiro&lt;br /&gt;
Há flores por todos os lados&lt;br /&gt;
Há flores em tudo que eu vejo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;A dor vai curar essas lástimas&lt;br /&gt;
O soro tem gosto de lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;
As flores têm cheiro de morte&lt;br /&gt;
A dor vai fechar esses cortes&lt;br /&gt;
Flores&lt;br /&gt;
Flores&lt;br /&gt;
As flores de plástico não morrem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Olhei até ficar cansado&lt;br /&gt;
De ver os meus olhos no espelho&lt;br /&gt;
Chorei por ter despedaçado&lt;br /&gt;
As flores que estão no canteiro&lt;br /&gt;
Os punhos e os pulsos cortados&lt;br /&gt;
E o resto do meu corpo inteiro&lt;br /&gt;
Há flores cobrindo o telhado&lt;br /&gt;
E embaixo do meu travesseiro&lt;br /&gt;
Há flores por todos os lados&lt;br /&gt;
Há flores em tudo que eu vejo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;A dor vai curar essas lástimas&lt;br /&gt;
O soro tem gosto de lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;
As flores têm cheiro de morte&lt;br /&gt;
A dor vai fechar esses cortes&lt;br /&gt;
Flores&lt;br /&gt;
Flores&lt;br /&gt;
As flores de plástico não morrem&lt;br /&gt;
Flores&lt;br /&gt;
Flores&lt;br /&gt;
As flores de plástico não morrem"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
(Flores, Titãs, Composição: Tony Bellotto / Sérgio Britto / Charles Gavin / Paulo Miklos)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1K7I7h1kF7DfvapLlMQkuhfCUiXUxcJH-rHVTDT2MAVYZvXWa1Soxk_uurnf3irA2bVz3OmSOWUZBRwmQRIr8_OkQDQEk23wEbeHKXBMOsSt0MmQVSn2NhozaP2eAE4Qw-x1Ln86yWtFT/s72-c/uyyytfjk.JPG" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Leituras passadas. Ato 2</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/leituras-passadas-ato-2.html</link><pubDate>Wed, 17 Nov 2010 15:48:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-7701706493368695148</guid><description>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://perdimeutempo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/fuga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="221" px="true" src="http://perdimeutempo.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/fuga.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Por ti &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Perdi a covardia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E acreditei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Por ti&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Deixei meu egoísmo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E&amp;nbsp;mudei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Por ti&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Desejei caminhar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E de ti fugi.&lt;/div&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Leituras passadas. Ato 1</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/leituras-passadas-ato-1.html</link><pubDate>Tue, 16 Nov 2010 19:27:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-800530250470845974</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://rosadodeserto.blogs.sapo.pt/arquivo/deserto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" px="true" src="http://rosadodeserto.blogs.sapo.pt/arquivo/deserto.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Abria os olhos e via o deserto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Estava sozinha sob a luz do sol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;O mesmo astro que trazia vida absorvia minhas forças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Desejava encontrar o oásis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Era traída pelo corpo desmotivado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Encontrei a ti e tuas palavras arenosas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sobrevivi e&amp;nbsp;do passado fiz um ampulheta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Verde</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/verde.html</link><pubDate>Sun, 7 Nov 2010 19:10:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-2625003027943128142</guid><description>&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxFyKbOKh1fTuzxUXxAoGUMWsQw-d9RKbU-4hd2O69MCBVNLRd-zDp3FWocJEUnHpA6SUc89LzWKLRD6W5Ua4QIgt125WZQIyxaiuQvAVYcPnFl-njbhbf8Rl5bYE7xk5ennlkALRpZzU/s1600/monet-camille-woman-in-green-dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxFyKbOKh1fTuzxUXxAoGUMWsQw-d9RKbU-4hd2O69MCBVNLRd-zDp3FWocJEUnHpA6SUc89LzWKLRD6W5Ua4QIgt125WZQIyxaiuQvAVYcPnFl-njbhbf8Rl5bYE7xk5ennlkALRpZzU/s320/monet-camille-woman-in-green-dress.jpg" width="207" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language: PT;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Agrada-me pensar no verde, luz primária que me veste a alma,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language: PT;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;vestido de “Monet”, musgos em esconderijos úmidos e sombrios, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language: PT;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;oliveiras em rebento, cor calmante, natureza exuberante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language: PT;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Desenho em verde, visto folhas, brilho como esmeralda,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language: PT;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;desperto um louva-a-deus e sigo secundária.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;{Fortuna et Fortunae}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxFyKbOKh1fTuzxUXxAoGUMWsQw-d9RKbU-4hd2O69MCBVNLRd-zDp3FWocJEUnHpA6SUc89LzWKLRD6W5Ua4QIgt125WZQIyxaiuQvAVYcPnFl-njbhbf8Rl5bYE7xk5ennlkALRpZzU/s72-c/monet-camille-woman-in-green-dress.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item><item><title>Carpe Diem</title><link>http://sorvedouro.blogspot.com/2010/11/carpem-diem.html</link><pubDate>Sat, 6 Nov 2010 17:38:00 -0200</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4131799805841078746.post-1907047446495586704</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://abbapai.files.wordpress.com/2007/08/salmo23.png?w=554&amp;amp;h=371" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="211" px="true" src="http://abbapai.files.wordpress.com/2007/08/salmo23.png?w=554&amp;amp;h=371" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Quando&amp;nbsp;perguntas quais meus objetivos , respondo assim:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;- Quero correr pelos pastos, ouvir os pássaros, rir nos cafés, chorar pelas ruas, falar com amigos imaginários, torcer por um time perdedor, ganhar um presente e sentir-me amada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Não foi uma resposta satisfatória, mas é a única que possuo. Cresci num mundo de emoções, sonhos e desejos, lugar sem espaço para racionalidade enfadonha, sofro algumas vezes com minha bagunça emocional, quase sempre sorrio com a leveza dos dias sem roteiro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;{Fortuna et Fortunae}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>lidianepereira@hotmail.com (ZARA AIDÊ)</author></item></channel></rss>