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<?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;DUUFQHg8cCp7ImA9WhRRFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779</id><updated>2011-11-27T21:40:11.678-02:00</updated><category term="RETÓRICA" /><category term="ASSIM SE VIVE" /><category term="AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO" /><category term="LOKURA" /><category term="NOSTALGIA" /><title>SUMONAUTA II</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</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/SumonautaIi" /><feedburner:info uri="sumonautaii" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYBSX07fCp7ImA9WhZTFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-933798509219478048</id><published>2011-03-20T12:14:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T12:15:58.304-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-20T12:15:58.304-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="RETÓRICA" /><title>Fé, Oportunismo, Vaidade ou Esperança... (Prte 2)</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-zU7QU6zUQTE/TYYZkd8GwxI/AAAAAAAAApo/j7xqBQPW_Fo/s1600/m%25C3%25A1scara.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-zU7QU6zUQTE/TYYZkd8GwxI/AAAAAAAAApo/j7xqBQPW_Fo/s1600/m%25C3%25A1scara.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Em um post anterior &lt;a href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2011/01/fe-oportunismo-vaidade-ou-esperanca.html"&gt;(aqui)&lt;/a&gt;, citei e critiquei as atitudes das pessoas que só praticam a religião dentro de seu templo e no dia-a-dia, revertem suas atitudes ao contrário... com materialismo, egoísmo, preconceito e outras coisas mais...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pois bem, esta semana, a mesma pessoa, mas precisamente uma criatura que se diz apometrista, espírita, caridosa e mais um monte de merda mentirosa, mais uma vez tentou usar descaradamente a espiritualidade para agir e prejudicar outra pessoa...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A mulher, dona de um salão de beleza, tem um filho cheio de neuras e não admite o homossexualismo do guri, tem um marido que sustenta ela com uma boa aposentadoria da CEEE e outro filho que ao que parece também é maluco, resolveu usar desculpas estapafurdias e ofensivas (as quais prefiro não citar),&amp;nbsp; para demitir uma funcionária, mas é indiscutível que a real motivação foi o ciúmes vaidoso gerado pelo fato de que, sua funcionária, com mais carisma, mas versatilidade, mais conhecimento técnico, mais profissionalismo e garra, conquistou mais clientes em um ano do que a própria dona do salão em dois anos! Irritava-a o modo despido de preconceitos que sua funcionária atendia e se fazia útil a todas as clientes que ali chegavam sem exceção alguma!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Onde está a espiritualidade? onde foi parar o conhecimento espiritualizado da alma que prega a igualdade? Não existe bondade em um ser que não suporta negros, que não suporta pobres e que acredita que não deve trabalhar mais do que 4 horas por dia!!!!!!!!!! Uma criatura que não precisa trabalhar, pois o marido, ao qual nitidamente ela expressa nojo até de chegar perto, a sustenta!!!! HIPOCRISIA!!!!!!!!!! Isso me irrita!!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Em meio a tanta hipocrisia espiritual sua funcionária disse: "Tu pode manipular quem tu quiser como testemunhas, mas não vais de modo algum, mentir ou enganar estas testemunhas que estão aqui sim, mas que não as vemos... a estas testemunhas tu não vais poder mentir, e é a elas que terás de prestar as reais contas... daí sim eu quero te ver!!".&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Bem, creio que não precisa dizer mais né?!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-933798509219478048?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3tlCSnNBLQTnH9n7th0ADqJZEmk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3tlCSnNBLQTnH9n7th0ADqJZEmk/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/3tlCSnNBLQTnH9n7th0ADqJZEmk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3tlCSnNBLQTnH9n7th0ADqJZEmk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/uVgi5EwZsWs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/933798509219478048/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=933798509219478048&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/933798509219478048?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/933798509219478048?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/uVgi5EwZsWs/fe-oportunismo-vaidade-ou-esperanca.html" title="Fé, Oportunismo, Vaidade ou Esperança... (Prte 2)" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-zU7QU6zUQTE/TYYZkd8GwxI/AAAAAAAAApo/j7xqBQPW_Fo/s72-c/m%25C3%25A1scara.jpeg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2011/03/fe-oportunismo-vaidade-ou-esperanca.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYCQn0_cSp7ImA9Wx9bF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-7565141738384822184</id><published>2011-02-26T09:39:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T09:42:43.349-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-26T09:42:43.349-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASSIM SE VIVE" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="RETÓRICA" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="clear: left; float: left; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="320" src="http://estrangeiraemseupais.files.wordpress.com/2010/07/beijo-fim-da-guerra.jpg" width="264" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;"Amor é isto: a dialética entre a alegria do encontro e a dor da separação. De alguma forma a gota de chuva aparecerá de novo, o vento permitirá que velejemos de novo, mar afora.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;Morte e ressurreição. Na dialética do amor, a própria dialética do divino.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;Quem não pode suportar a dor da separação, não está preparado para o amor. Porque o amor é algo que não se tem nunca. É evento de graça.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;Aparece quando quer, e só nos resta ficar à espera. E quando ele volta,a alegria volta com ele. E sentimos então que valeu a pena suportar a dor da ausência, pela alegria do reencontro."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-7565141738384822184?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7vs9QwmiZOwm2dO4BKTPNG3DqjI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7vs9QwmiZOwm2dO4BKTPNG3DqjI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/jYwKh6uHZ2o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/7565141738384822184/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=7565141738384822184&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/7565141738384822184?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/7565141738384822184?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/jYwKh6uHZ2o/amor-e-isto-dialetica-entre-alegria-do.html" title="" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2011/02/amor-e-isto-dialetica-entre-alegria-do.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QAQ34yeSp7ImA9Wx9bFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-8043446315533205328</id><published>2011-02-23T23:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T23:42:22.091-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-23T23:42:22.091-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="NOSTALGIA" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASSIM SE VIVE" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="LOKURA" /><title>RECOMEÇO</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu recomeço, mais uma vez se faz obrigatório...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Perdi mais uma vez alguém que amo muito! Por erros meus... por cegueira de ambos... não importa!! O fato é que perdi mais uma vez!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Primeiro foi meu filho... faleceu com apenas seis meses de idade...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Agora, por burrice minha, terminei meu casamento por não suportar mais ser como sou: UM MONSTRO!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Há uns anos atrás, um pirralho rebateu uma frase minha: Eu: - "Não compra uma guerra que não podes ganhar!!!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ele: -" Veremos!!" &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pois é! Perdi e ele ganhou!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Perdi porque fui emocionalmente burro! Perdi porque entrei num joguinho ridículo em que um adulto em são estado de consciência não entraria... perdi porque não fui capaz de mudar meu jeito errado de resolver as coisas e porque não consegui seguir os conselhos e avisos!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Agora a guerra é contra minha própria existência! É contra minhas próprias idéias e convicções!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Só tenho duas escolhas: LUTAR E VENCER ou SUCUMBIR AO FRACASSO ME ENTREGANDO DE VEZ! Confesso que ainda não sei o que fazer... uma das duas opções terei que seguir. Mas espero que independente da minha escolha, eu finalmente tenha paz! Eu finalmente fique livre do caos gerado por mim mesmo!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-8043446315533205328?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9mcjsMlkRmgmopRltXvixoBz-cI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9mcjsMlkRmgmopRltXvixoBz-cI/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/9mcjsMlkRmgmopRltXvixoBz-cI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9mcjsMlkRmgmopRltXvixoBz-cI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/Chv13hBKVkU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/8043446315533205328/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=8043446315533205328&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/8043446315533205328?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/8043446315533205328?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/Chv13hBKVkU/recomeco.html" title="RECOMEÇO" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2011/02/recomeco.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0AHRn45fip7ImA9Wx9bEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-7658451189975159896</id><published>2011-02-20T18:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T18:02:17.026-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-20T18:02:17.026-03:00</app:edited><title>PERMITA-SE...</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aHJnc1Pt0XI/TWGAgMz-oGI/AAAAAAAAApk/Q1dRs7Y07ek/s1600/images+...jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aHJnc1Pt0XI/TWGAgMz-oGI/AAAAAAAAApk/Q1dRs7Y07ek/s1600/images+...jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Permita-se ao agora...&lt;br /&gt;
Permita-se ao novo... ao velho&lt;br /&gt;
Permita-se na intensa leveza de ser... ou não ser!&lt;br /&gt;
Permita-se calar quando todos falam...&lt;br /&gt;
Gritar quando todos silenciam!&lt;br /&gt;
Permita-se ao desconhecido e controvertido ato de viver!&lt;br /&gt;
Permita-se permitir ao outro o desfrute de sua presença!&lt;br /&gt;
Permita-se o não ou o sim... mas permita-se!&lt;br /&gt;
Abra o peito e salte bem alto...&lt;br /&gt;
Inspire e transpire!&lt;br /&gt;
Permita-se!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-7658451189975159896?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vKBgVNUmqhMNuxK2C5scYcxbtyA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vKBgVNUmqhMNuxK2C5scYcxbtyA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/CVcVWcLEG1c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/7658451189975159896/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=7658451189975159896&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/7658451189975159896?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/7658451189975159896?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/CVcVWcLEG1c/permita-se.html" title="PERMITA-SE..." /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aHJnc1Pt0XI/TWGAgMz-oGI/AAAAAAAAApk/Q1dRs7Y07ek/s72-c/images+...jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2011/02/permita-se.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YNQ344fip7ImA9Wx9WGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-3365290417140061962</id><published>2011-01-25T21:46:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T21:46:32.036-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-25T21:46:32.036-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASSIM SE VIVE" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="LOKURA" /><title>MORAL DA HISTÓRIA</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TT9edenRjGI/AAAAAAAAAoI/Tt0Lom9RpOs/s1600/adol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TT9edenRjGI/AAAAAAAAAoI/Tt0Lom9RpOs/s320/adol.jpg" width="236" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Quero poder voltar no tempo... na adolescência mais precisamente. Foi lá que perdi o fio da meada! Foi lá que iniciei uma derrota que me parece irreversível!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Não fui um bom filho... e hoje por consceqüencia, não sou um bom pai;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Não fui um bom irmão... e hoje continuo não sendo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Foram erros em cima de erros e hoje... sou a representação viva do erro!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Minha liberdade de hoje é serciada pelas conseqüencias de minhas próprias escolhas... enquanto que antes, minha liberdade era apenas minimizada de forma natural!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tô cansado!! Triste!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ao passo que muitos dizem é só uma fase, eu rebato: FAZ TEMPO!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Me sinto desmoralizado... desrespeitado!! Não tenho moral pra reivindicar nada!! Tenho sim, que calar e aceitar a tudo e todos... a final, escolhi começar pelo fim!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Enquanto todos estudavam, eu me divertia...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Enquanto todos trabalhavam, eu quis ser dono do meu mundinho profissional...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Enquanto todos buscaram paz eu travei guerras e batalhas!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Em fim, aos que tanto esperavam por isso: PERDI!!! JOGUEI A TOALHA!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-3365290417140061962?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qw-0-jpEMh1SJycDym1q91FoDtI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qw-0-jpEMh1SJycDym1q91FoDtI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/zgjTbTOvitE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/3365290417140061962/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=3365290417140061962&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/3365290417140061962?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/3365290417140061962?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/zgjTbTOvitE/moral-da-historia.html" title="MORAL DA HISTÓRIA" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TT9edenRjGI/AAAAAAAAAoI/Tt0Lom9RpOs/s72-c/adol.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2011/01/moral-da-historia.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMFRHw_eSp7ImA9Wx9WFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-4602084043021852372</id><published>2011-01-21T22:48:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T22:50:15.241-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-21T22:50:15.241-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="RETÓRICA" /><title>Fé, Oportunismo, Vaidade ou Esperança?! (parte 1)</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TToiWzUKchI/AAAAAAAAAn8/zEe4RVnYYYI/s1600/f%25C3%25A9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TToiWzUKchI/AAAAAAAAAn8/zEe4RVnYYYI/s320/f%25C3%25A9.jpg" width="201" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;oje eu e minha esposa conversávamos sobre uma conhecida nossa, mais especificamente sobre a relação entre sua religiosidade e a prática real desta religiosidade.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cheguei a conclusão que, em um mundo como o nosso, onde a fé alheia é tão absurdamente explorada, onde falsos profetas surgem a cada dia, onde toda religião tem por alicerce a necessidade carente das pessoas, DEVEMOS CONFIAR SOMENTE NA RELIGIÃO E NÃO EM QUEM A FAZ!!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Justifico: Há a religião que oferece a salvação somente a quem literalmente pagar mais (em dinheiro real), há a religião presa a falsos pudores mas que foi construída em um sistema cheio de pedofilia e riquezas imperiais literalmente tomada dos povos, há a religião que pratica tanto o bem quanto o mal (quem pagar mais leva)... em fim são muitas religiões e muitos "crimes espirituais" cometidos pelo homem. Mas é injusto e hipócrita de minha parte falar das religiões que não sigo, que discordo e que, em alguns casos, até abomino, sem que eu seja consciente e sabedor dos erros e defeitos da religião que eu sigo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Creio na religião espírita desde que me conheço por gente. De fato não sou um estudioso do assunto, mas conheço o suficiente para respeitar, seguir, gostar e criticar. Contudo, minhas críticas relacionadas a todas as religiões, não é diretamente aos preceitos (exceto em raros casos), mas é sim principalmente aos seres que a pregam e que se intitulam mentores, gurus, pastores, pais, em fim, seres que trouxeram pra si a responsabilidade de expor os conceitos e ensinamentos de suas religiões, e com relação ao espiritismo, não penso diferente!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Conheço algumas pessoas que uma ou duas vezes por semana cumpre seu papel na casa religiosa que frequentam, estudam e entendem bem a religião espirita, contudo, seus atos diários são diferentes! Agem com preconceito racial e social. São materialistas e egoístas. Pessoas que dentro de um centro espírita empregam o Evangelho segundo o espiritismo, mas quando saem dali mal reconhecem um irmão de estudo na rua. São&amp;nbsp;pessoas que não assumem seus defeitos, seus erros, suas carências, pelo simples fato de se intitularem detentoras de uma evolução que ninguém sabe se foi alcançada ou não! São pessoas que acreditam estarem em um patamar de evolução superior, pois mesmo quando usam a sim mesmo como exemplo de seres em aprendizado constante, finalizam (sempre) uma frase ou assunto deixando bem claro que já aprenderam!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Baseado na teoria espirita, onde colocamos a terra e cada encarnação como tempo de aprendizado e resgate, digo: se há seres tão evoluídos assim detentores da razão religiosa, o que fazem aqui?!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Infelizmente, as religiões são dotadas de vaidade, egocentrismo, oportunismo e outras coisas mais! Lamentável!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-4602084043021852372?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/evSCI7a8yPy2CWTm8Jb5thzhY_s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/evSCI7a8yPy2CWTm8Jb5thzhY_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/SumonautaIi/~4/U3e-mW6P8-M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/4602084043021852372/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=4602084043021852372&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/4602084043021852372?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/4602084043021852372?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/U3e-mW6P8-M/fe-oportunismo-vaidade-ou-esperanca.html" title="Fé, Oportunismo, Vaidade ou Esperança?! (parte 1)" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TToiWzUKchI/AAAAAAAAAn8/zEe4RVnYYYI/s72-c/f%25C3%25A9.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2011/01/fe-oportunismo-vaidade-ou-esperanca.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEHRng7fSp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-1906332876582038857</id><published>2010-09-06T13:53:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:23:57.605-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:23:57.605-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASSIM SE VIVE" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO" /><title>.PPS</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TIUV8FzUaLI/AAAAAAAAAmk/wGEKHnnxp2M/s1600/internauta.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="292" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TIUV8FzUaLI/AAAAAAAAAmk/wGEKHnnxp2M/s320/internauta.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Faz dias que penso em postar algo, escrever, desabafar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Confesso que minha imaginação está um tanto quanto inerte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Diante de tantos problemas, tenho estado aéreo, mentalmente cansado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Então hoje resolvi fazer o que raramente faço, e me dediquei a ler a infinidade de e-mails em PPS (power point) que recebo todos os dias...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Não serei hipócrita, admito que não tenho muita dedicação em abrir estas mensagens, mas ao mesmo tempo, penso que, se as pessoas tem a paciência e dedicação em me enviá-las por terem lembrado de mim, é porque alguma importância tenho na vida delas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Assim, me pus a ler e ver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Ao passo que ia fazendo isto, fui me dando conta de como sou privilegiado... de como sou rico!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Aos meus problemas, todos com solução, tenho me dedicado fervorosamente, e as coisas que me acalmam e alentam, pouco me dedico. Injusto!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Desde o falecimento do meu filho, experimentei um turbilhão de emoções: RAIVA, RANCOR, MEDO, TRISTEZA, IRRITAÇÃO, DESÂNIMO, MÁGOA, REMOÍ O PASSADO (erroneamente), CULPEI PESSOAS POR COISAS ABSURDAS, FUI INJUSTO... CULPEI E ME REBELEI COM DEUS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Mas em nenhum momento desde o falecimento do mau anjinho, ao menos até há uns 3 meses atrás, percebi a riqueza que possuo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Sou afortunado pela família que tenho, minha mulher, meus dois filhos, meu sogro e amigo, meus pais e irmãos... e indiscutivelmente meus amigos; estes, que independente da distância, independente de alguns nunca terem me visitado nem eu a eles, nunca deixam de mandar um oi se quer... mesmo que seja por aqui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;A grande maioria deles, não mede esforços para mandar mensagens de estímulo, de carinho... de conforto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TIUTZm7TwKI/AAAAAAAAAmU/mE0uQZ7eXX4/s1600/amigos-allstar2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="256" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TIUTZm7TwKI/AAAAAAAAAmU/mE0uQZ7eXX4/s320/amigos-allstar2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Há os bem humorados, debochados que com uma piada aqui outra ali, me mostram que a vida é mais que correr a esmo... &amp;nbsp;é mais que sentir e viver os problemas sem pensar que bem perto de nós existem pessoas que desconhecem qualquer solução para seus problemas incontesatvelmente maiores.&amp;nbsp;Serei grato até o último dia da minha vida por ter os amigos que tenho... até mesmo aqueles que raramente me mandam alguma mensagem, ou que nunca mandam... ou aqueles que nunca respondem as mensagens que eu mando por e-mail ou por redes sociais... serei grato a todos SEMPRE! Pois das mais diferentes formas que se fazem meus amigos, me mostram dia após dia que sou quem sou de verdade e não como alguém "montado", "fake"!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Muito obrigado aos meus amigos! Pois a mim basta considerá-los amigos, e se não existe um feedback recíproco tudo bem, a mim basta gostá-los como gosto e exatamente como eles são!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TIUTtJUM5GI/AAAAAAAAAmc/-9ZjFac9oQA/s1600/amigos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TIUTtJUM5GI/AAAAAAAAAmc/-9ZjFac9oQA/s320/amigos.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-1906332876582038857?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U6Y1AZ_O4K66uqaACvZ3HXH79rA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U6Y1AZ_O4K66uqaACvZ3HXH79rA/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/U6Y1AZ_O4K66uqaACvZ3HXH79rA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U6Y1AZ_O4K66uqaACvZ3HXH79rA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/HCw2qVCxUqg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/1906332876582038857/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=1906332876582038857&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/1906332876582038857?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/1906332876582038857?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/HCw2qVCxUqg/pps.html" title=".PPS" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TIUV8FzUaLI/AAAAAAAAAmk/wGEKHnnxp2M/s72-c/internauta.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/09/pps.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEAAQH8_fyp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-6364584275734743923</id><published>2010-08-08T23:37:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:25:41.147-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:25:41.147-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Ser pai também é ser mãe e vice e versa!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Ser pai é mais absurda forma de nos sentirmos gigantes, fortes... únicos!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Ser pai é mais que querer... é poder!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Ser pai... é sentir ao colo a inocente perfeição do próprio pedaço... da própria carne!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Ser pai é viver à sombra de uma pá de incertezas... mas também de uma absoluta felicidade!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Ser pai é ter que conter as lágrimas diante da rebeldia do filho adolescente...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Ou até mesmo, chorar escondido... sozinho, quieto... e por vezes se sentindo abandonado!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Ser pai é diferente de "estar pai" é sim a plena luta diária pelo sorriso do filho!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Neste dia dos pais, abrace seus filhos, sinta-os como se fosse o primeiro dia em que os pegou no colo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Cheire... observe cada reação como se fosse cada descoberta de sua primeira infância!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Sorria junto... beije, aperte!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Esqueça, ao menos neste dia, das decepções, dos desmandos...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Não lembre de trabalho, de contas... apenas viva seus filhos!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Perceba que seus defeitos são parte do teu DNA também!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Admita que cada um é um e que... por menos que eles externem... são infinitamente gratos pelo pai que têm e por ter o pai ao lado!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Não deixe de sentir que um dia, estes teus filhos foram apenas um serzinho ingênuo que nada deste mundo sabia!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Perceba que o dia de amanhã pouco se sabe e que o hoje, após o pôr do sol, será único e imutável...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Que seus filhos são a representação viva do fenômeno mais belo e lindo... A VIDA!!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Perceba que a saudade que sente é da infância de seus filhos e não da sua ausência carnal!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Ame-os, sinta-os... se permita a isto e NUNCA esqueça que nós também somos eternos filhos e eternas crianças aos olhos dos nossos pais!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/THDOK0bBuHI/AAAAAAAAAmM/Z6KdgVIzldw/s1600/pai-e-filho1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/THDOK0bBuHI/AAAAAAAAAmM/Z6KdgVIzldw/s320/pai-e-filho1.jpg" width="214" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/THDOK0bBuHI/AAAAAAAAAmM/Z6KdgVIzldw/s1600/pai-e-filho1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/THDOK0bBuHI/AAAAAAAAAmM/Z6KdgVIzldw/s1600/pai-e-filho1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/THDOK0bBuHI/AAAAAAAAAmM/Z6KdgVIzldw/s1600/pai-e-filho1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/THDOK0bBuHI/AAAAAAAAAmM/Z6KdgVIzldw/s1600/pai-e-filho1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-family: 'Matura MT Script Capitals';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Feliz dia dos Pais!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-6364584275734743923?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kn_5L1SkFWcaQrRcp7-VdLmzLFg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kn_5L1SkFWcaQrRcp7-VdLmzLFg/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/kn_5L1SkFWcaQrRcp7-VdLmzLFg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kn_5L1SkFWcaQrRcp7-VdLmzLFg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/1LZNn8P-y-M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/6364584275734743923/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=6364584275734743923&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6364584275734743923?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6364584275734743923?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/1LZNn8P-y-M/blog-post.html" title="" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/THDOK0bBuHI/AAAAAAAAAmM/Z6KdgVIzldw/s72-c/pai-e-filho1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEANRH49fyp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-1585542325464552839</id><published>2010-07-11T22:52:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:26:35.067-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:26:35.067-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASSIM SE VIVE" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="RETÓRICA" /><title>BATALHA</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TDp0OBC_NgI/AAAAAAAAAl8/xXe59v3B8pU/s1600/batalha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TDp0OBC_NgI/AAAAAAAAAl8/xXe59v3B8pU/s400/batalha.jpg" width="270" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De quantas batalhas fiz de mim a força que&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;creio ter...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me é incerto!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De quantas lutas...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De quantos medos enfrentados forgei &amp;nbsp;meu escudo...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não lembro.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas sei com certeza e lembro com nitidez&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;o quanto sempre &amp;nbsp;quiz e quero vencer e &amp;nbsp;ser feliz!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Com todos que me querem bem...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Com todos que em mim depositam confiança...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que acreditam que minhas fases...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Embora compostas de rompantes muitas vezes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;irracionais,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;são parte de meu crescimento constante neste mundo!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E assim, sem humildade alguma...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Faço de mim um guerreiro!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que não desiste, que não se entrega!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que busca acima de qualquer conquista...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A vitória sobre seus prórpios erros e demônios!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-1585542325464552839?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cGtbaEz_qEdKrKI8FMgyaGJ4dJw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cGtbaEz_qEdKrKI8FMgyaGJ4dJw/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/cGtbaEz_qEdKrKI8FMgyaGJ4dJw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cGtbaEz_qEdKrKI8FMgyaGJ4dJw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/_-7ccUsn1Ac" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/1585542325464552839/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=1585542325464552839&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/1585542325464552839?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/1585542325464552839?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/_-7ccUsn1Ac/batalha.html" title="BATALHA" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TDp0OBC_NgI/AAAAAAAAAl8/xXe59v3B8pU/s72-c/batalha.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/07/batalha.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIMRnYzcCp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-6650972520346033715</id><published>2010-05-20T01:31:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:39:47.888-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:39:47.888-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="RETÓRICA" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S_S7CSp09FI/AAAAAAAAAls/9T4UQil6x_M/s1600/marionete.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S_S7CSp09FI/AAAAAAAAAls/9T4UQil6x_M/s320/marionete.jpg" width="289" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;A única verdade que conheço se resume na existência como mistério tão somente!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;É tudo muito dúbio... incerto... incógnito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Veríssimo em sua&amp;nbsp;sapiência&amp;nbsp;indiscutível já dizia: "Quando a gente acha que tem todas as respostas,vem a vida e muda todas as perguntas."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;E daí? Pergunto eu em minha&amp;nbsp;controvérsia&amp;nbsp;ignorância perante a tal realidade!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;A&amp;nbsp;latência&amp;nbsp;dos fatos me põe à deriva da coerência&amp;nbsp;existencialista!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Uma "suruba" &lt;i&gt;(em termos de Millôr Fernades)&lt;/i&gt; de sentimentos e emoções me fazem questionar o que é e o que nem sei!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Por vezes tenho vontade de me chacoalhar e esperar pra ver o que vai cair ao solo, daí aproveitar o que amadureceu e cultivar com carinho o que ainda não está no ponto... verde... até que se possa colher!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;A dádiva do raciocínio impõe esse ônus: A DÚVIDA!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Ser um ser pensante agrega a tarefa de saber separar o joio do trigo... a obrigação de conciliar pensamento, vontade, realidade e possibilidade em parceria com a coerência rumo a existência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Pensar e existir são coisas perigosamente discutíveis e questionáveis! Pois, "se penso, logo existo", porque ainda duvido de tudo à minha volta? Porque meus receios são tão maiores que minhas atitudes, ao ponto de empacar, zonzo, em um mesmo lugar? Por quê?!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Ao contrário do que a ciência informa, a busca constante da humanidade não é pelo &lt;i&gt;"elo perdido"&lt;/i&gt;, mas sim, por seu fundamento existencial! Onde não sabe-se quem é quem, nem o porque de nada! Onde a morte é a dúvida na mesma proporção que pouco se sabe da vida!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-6650972520346033715?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h-2vHayTukMYKNdIuRG2N1DE2z4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h-2vHayTukMYKNdIuRG2N1DE2z4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h-2vHayTukMYKNdIuRG2N1DE2z4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h-2vHayTukMYKNdIuRG2N1DE2z4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/1wf82TgULCk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/6650972520346033715/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=6650972520346033715&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6650972520346033715?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6650972520346033715?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/1wf82TgULCk/unica-verdade-que-conheco-se-resume-na.html" title="" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S_S7CSp09FI/AAAAAAAAAls/9T4UQil6x_M/s72-c/marionete.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/05/unica-verdade-que-conheco-se-resume-na.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEERH49cCp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-6489827307188217627</id><published>2010-05-15T15:57:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:40:05.068-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:40:05.068-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="RETÓRICA" /><title>SUBLIMAR  - REFORMA INTERNA</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S-7uIxlm9aI/AAAAAAAAAlk/PgsBXyDfyFU/s1600/2348508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S-7uIxlm9aI/AAAAAAAAAlk/PgsBXyDfyFU/s320/2348508.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;A sublimação é tida como o mais importante mecanismo do inconsciente para a vida normal do indivíduo. Exemplo: um impulso libidinoso pode ser sublimado e dar ao indivíduo condições, interesse e sentimento estético para se transformar num grande músico; um impulso agressivo pode transformar um homem comum num ótimo pugilista, ou mesmo ótimo jogador de futebol. Nesses exemplos, a música (ou atividade artística) e o pugilismo ou futebol (também poderiam ser outras modalidades esportivas) são objetivos substitutos apresentados pelo processo de sublimação: vem substituir os objetivos "condenáveis" daqueles impulsos interiores.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Segundo Freud, que criou o termo, a sublimação é responsável por muitas "das nobres aquisições do espírito humano".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ao contrário de outros mecanismos de defesa, na sublimação os impulsos encontram saída por via artificial. O impulso original desaparece quando a sublimação se completa, porque a energia dele lhe é retirada, e encaminhada para o objetivo-substituto.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Principalmente para o exercício de nossa reforma interna, o princípio chave é SUBLIMAR, pois os impulsos que podemos chamar de negativos, egoístas e mesmo agressivos, poderão ser canalizados para um pensamento que será salutar para nosso organismo, para nossa saúde , para o nosso bem espiritual e corporal.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Uma maneira de lidar com o peso de nossos impulsos é fazermos um simples questionamento: “Eu preciso disso?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; É , não mal comparando ou bem comparando, quando visitamos uma loja ou um Supermercado, e deparamos com as mais variadas mercadorias, expostas para chamar a atenção. Olhamos, olhamos e analisamos entre o ver , o levar, o que nos trará de proveito aquilo que mais nos chamou a atenção, e nos perguntamos mentalmente: Eu preciso disso?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A vida na terra, nos oferece diariamente a cada momento, os mais variados convites. São convites bons e convites negativos. Suas aceitações dependerão de nós, pois temos nosso Livre Arbítrio para aceitar ou não. Podemos dizer que são tentações das mais variadas, que devemos avaliar se precisamos de tais ofertas. Por vezes , ao darmos o impulso para atendermos determinado chamado, estamos adquirindo cargas pesadas que com o tempo será difícil de carregar, tais serão suas conseqüências.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Em nossa reforma interna devemos saber administrar o passado, de maneira que este não interfira em nosso presente, pois dará reflexos em nosso futuro. O peso do passado deve ser sublimado da melhor maneira possível, devemos aliviar este peso para que possamos enfrentar o presente, pois assim estaremos preparando um futuro mais aprazível e salutar para nosso espírito e nosso corpo, e em conseqüência para nossos semelhantes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Quando nos propomos a realizar nossa reforma interna, pensamos muitas coisas boas, mas com raras exceções , poucas realizamos. Freqüentamos o Centro Espírita, participamos de Cursos da Doutrina Espírita,&amp;nbsp; lemos as Obras básicas de Kardec, estudamos vários outros livros, de também&amp;nbsp; grandes escritores Espíritas. Literalmente entramos na Doutrina, mas, será que a Doutrina entrou em nós?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Este questionamento devemos nos fazer, e sem nos preocuparmos se nosso irmão age assim ou assado, o importante é fazermos a nossa parte, aceitando a Doutrina como elemento vital para nossas vidas, da mesma forma que recebemos o ar que respiramos, e que é vital, pois esta é a Doutrina de JESUS, a Doutrina do amor, do respeito a si e ao próximo, é a preparação para o futuro de nosso espírito, que sabemos ser imortal, e que ao não observarmos os princípios ditos pelo Mestre, nossas idas e vindas ocorrerão por muitos e muitos anos ou séculos, até ocorrer o aceite de tão nobre missão, que é amar a Deus sobre todas as coisas e &amp;nbsp;amando teu semelhante e o aceitando como ele é.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Por Jesus dos Santos (meu pai) em Maio de 2010&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-6489827307188217627?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9Xs52mnsQ-J2fIDlwoJeS557NQ8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9Xs52mnsQ-J2fIDlwoJeS557NQ8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9Xs52mnsQ-J2fIDlwoJeS557NQ8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9Xs52mnsQ-J2fIDlwoJeS557NQ8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/JeCDTB3ABhM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/6489827307188217627/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=6489827307188217627&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6489827307188217627?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6489827307188217627?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/JeCDTB3ABhM/sublimar-reforma-interna.html" title="SUBLIMAR  - REFORMA INTERNA" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S-7uIxlm9aI/AAAAAAAAAlk/PgsBXyDfyFU/s72-c/2348508.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/05/sublimar-reforma-interna.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUAFRnY9cCp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-1952316399470541408</id><published>2010-04-20T03:24:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:41:57.868-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:41:57.868-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="NOSTALGIA" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S81G4W3C95I/AAAAAAAAAlc/_gjOS6YKRD8/s1600/o_vazio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="275" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S81G4W3C95I/AAAAAAAAAlc/_gjOS6YKRD8/s400/o_vazio.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Tem sido uma constante a sensação de vazio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Tenho estado inerte e agitado ao mesmo tempo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;É como se minha lucidez e meu discernimento tivessem ido embora de vez!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Na verdade não sei mais o que fazer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Vivo sem as certezas que antes sempre me orgulhei em ter!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;É tudo muito estranho...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Sei quais são algumas soluções, mas não sei como chegar a elas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Sei o que deve ser modificado, mas as forças me faltam!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Minha cabeça está dormenta e lenta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Não consigo ver um palmo diante do meu próprio nariz!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Preciso de socorro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;De ajuda!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Mas na verdade, meu tempo está tão atrasado, que não me sinto no direito de pedir que as pessoas diminuam seu rítmo por minha causa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Em suma, sou eu e eu!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Talvez a loucura seja meu fim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Quem sabe a morte antecipada?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Não sei!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Mas juro que se pudesse escolher...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;O antigo Alexandre estaria aqui novamente, lutando,&amp;nbsp;lúcido, forte e cheio de certezas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-1952316399470541408?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nNOc5kf3G-GXjXq1ycfV2xKCsPs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nNOc5kf3G-GXjXq1ycfV2xKCsPs/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/nNOc5kf3G-GXjXq1ycfV2xKCsPs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nNOc5kf3G-GXjXq1ycfV2xKCsPs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/VLoEW3FU24E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/1952316399470541408/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=1952316399470541408&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/1952316399470541408?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/1952316399470541408?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/VLoEW3FU24E/tem-sido-uma-constante-sensacao-de.html" title="" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S81G4W3C95I/AAAAAAAAAlc/_gjOS6YKRD8/s72-c/o_vazio.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/04/tem-sido-uma-constante-sensacao-de.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8BRXczeCp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-8768311830542250169</id><published>2010-03-30T06:40:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:44:14.980-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:44:14.980-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="NOSTALGIA" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASSIM SE VIVE" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S7G--lnnfDI/AAAAAAAAAk0/96T-23cJbtU/s1600/mont.+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="281" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S7G--lnnfDI/AAAAAAAAAk0/96T-23cJbtU/s400/mont.+blog.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Na trilha sonora, Deep Purple (made In Japan completo), Led, The Doors e BB King...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A ansiedade e o medo de agulhas (hehehe) completavam o clima!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Na memória o sorriso lindo do meu filho quando eu resolvia curtir Deep Purple, em especial Smoke and Water, ele amava, não sei por que, mas adorava!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me remeti aos tempos de adolescência, onde a rebeldia imperava, onde me sentia um rebelde radical (o que nunca fui de verdade).&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fiquei pensando em outras pessoas importantes além do meu filho, as quais estão vivas é claro, e queria que estivessem comigo neste momento, um primo muito querido, também rebelde daquela época, meu irmão, um outro amigo dos tempos de noitadas...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas tudo bem, nem sempre é possível.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lembrei dos planos que eu sempre tive de fazer uma tattoo, mas até então, não achava um motivo justo nem uma imagem que me empolgasse. Foram 22 anos (contando da época que planejei até agora) de espera... Sei que infelizmente o motivo é póstumo, mas também sei que me fez feliz fazer esta tatuagem!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas voltando a época em que pensei em me tatuar, as coisas eram mais rígidas...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lembro que quando furei a orelha e coloquei meu brinco, entrei escondido em casa pro meu pai não ver de primeira e eu pudesse mostrar de forma mais natural e em uma ocasião em que ele estivesse, digamos, de bom humor.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lembrei que naquela época, ouvir rock progressivo, beber até cair e fumar malboro, era o máximo do radicalismo adolescente! Lembrei que fumar um baseado nos tornava "caras cabeça"! Lembrei que "banguear" entre os filhinhos de papai nas festas era coisa de cara porrada! Lembrei que apesar de tudo isso, valeu a pena esperar para me tatuar.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje, pai de familia, 36 anos na cara, com ideais ainda radicais e com o ouvido, apesar de eclético, ainda voltado pro rock verdadeiro, me senti além de radical, responsável, pois sabia o que estava fazendo, tinha certeza disso!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje, me tatuando na presença dos meus filhos (o que na minha época seria impossível), creio estar fazendo uma justa homenagem as duas pessoas mais importantes na minha vida, minha mulher e meu filho.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Compuz minha tattoo com uma fênix e escritas em Kanji, onde tem a inicial do nome de minha mulher e o nome do meu filho. A fênix por seu mito de renascimento e bom agouro e os nomes por serem de suma importância pra minha história pessoal.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E mesmo com meu motor velho de 3.6, senti meu acelerador roncando como se fosse 1.6!!! Curti muito!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E quero agradecer minha mulher pelo apoio e minha amiga infanti-adolescente, Daiane Knapp, &amp;nbsp;que me proporcionou realizar este sonho, pois é uma artista completa!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S7HGD0CktdI/AAAAAAAAAlE/TQ61YGrcVOI/s1600/art+fin+tattoo+blog+expl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S7HGD0CktdI/AAAAAAAAAlE/TQ61YGrcVOI/s320/art+fin+tattoo+blog+expl.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-8768311830542250169?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nnqM6_GEGQ8Lvn_qM-NAHJfx430/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nnqM6_GEGQ8Lvn_qM-NAHJfx430/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nnqM6_GEGQ8Lvn_qM-NAHJfx430/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nnqM6_GEGQ8Lvn_qM-NAHJfx430/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/bAsiQqTnG60" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/8768311830542250169/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=8768311830542250169&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/8768311830542250169?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/8768311830542250169?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/bAsiQqTnG60/na-trilha-sonora-deep-purple-made-in.html" title="" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S7G--lnnfDI/AAAAAAAAAk0/96T-23cJbtU/s72-c/mont.+blog.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/03/na-trilha-sonora-deep-purple-made-in.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4GSXw-cSp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-6760258132865159717</id><published>2010-03-26T01:18:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:45:28.259-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:45:28.259-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO" /><title>SAUDADE PÓSTUMA</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S6wxUD18XwI/AAAAAAAAAks/Y97SeZnY_XI/s1600/reencarnac3a7c3a3o03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S6wxUD18XwI/AAAAAAAAAks/Y97SeZnY_XI/s320/reencarnac3a7c3a3o03.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Se há um tempo atrás, me perguntassem sobre a morte, eu diria (errônea e prepotentemente) que:&lt;i&gt; "A morte é um processo natural que não me assusta! A morte é uma consequencia carnal, onde a carne perece e o espírito renasce em outra dimensão!!"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nossa!! Que tamanho absurdo me colocar em um patamar tão auto-suficiente divagando sobre a morte! Sempre afirmei não temer nem me sentir assustado com a morte! Sempre afirmei que as pessoas exageram ao chorarem a morte de seus entes por muito tempo! Sempre achei que o tempo curava a saudade literalmente mortal... agora, do lado de cá, onde sei de verdade a saudade que a morte impõe, percebo o quão prepotente fui em meus passados pensamentos, o quanto insensível e idiota fui ao contestar as lágrimas póstumas dos que aqui vagam tendo a saudade como companheira!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje, a dor incalculavel de outrora, se faz presente a cada segundo, de forma que não tenho mais como contabilizar o quanto meu filho me faz falta!!! Nem sei mais se existem outras saudades... outras dores! Nem imagino mais o que é chorar senão pela saudade do meu anjinho amado!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sei que é uma questão de tempo... sei que ele está muito mais amparado que aqui... sei que ele está feliz, sorrindo e brincando (com a patota de cosme, como diz Zeca Pagodinho), mas é no mínimo compreensível que eu sinta esta saudade!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-6760258132865159717?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tJ6zeanjxsuDMu6li5Vf-8N6yCw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tJ6zeanjxsuDMu6li5Vf-8N6yCw/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/tJ6zeanjxsuDMu6li5Vf-8N6yCw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tJ6zeanjxsuDMu6li5Vf-8N6yCw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/gmcabhiyI-I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/6760258132865159717/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=6760258132865159717&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6760258132865159717?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6760258132865159717?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/gmcabhiyI-I/saudade-postuma.html" title="SAUDADE PÓSTUMA" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S6wxUD18XwI/AAAAAAAAAks/Y97SeZnY_XI/s72-c/reencarnac3a7c3a3o03.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/03/saudade-postuma.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4MRn46eCp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-1202190113860985406</id><published>2010-03-25T13:17:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:46:27.010-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:46:27.010-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="RETÓRICA" /><title>TIRO NO PÉ</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S6uI8BSs0jI/AAAAAAAAAkk/OI3H40qbhNw/s1600/um-tiro-no-pe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S6uI8BSs0jI/AAAAAAAAAkk/OI3H40qbhNw/s320/um-tiro-no-pe.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quando nos propomos a ser motivadores, a ser os portadores de estímulos e nos incumbimos de assumir a responsabilidade de levar às pessoas mensagens reflexivas, nos colocamos em risco de forma&amp;nbsp;incontestável.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pois bem, na última quarta-feira (24/3/2010), resolvi propor aos meus alunos um exercício de reflexão introspectiva a respeito de si próprio. De imediato, a proposta era que, eles deveriam traçar mentalmente uma linha do tempo, e inicar uma retrospectiva a partir de uma data marcante qualquer em suas vidas. Pois bem, durante a explicação, me pediram que eu fosse mais claro e desse um exemplo, foi aí que engatilhei o canhão e apontei em direção ao meu pé! Resolvi aplicar um exemplo com datas reais, sem narrar os fatos, mas foi o suficiente para engasgar pela primeira vez... na continuidade, justificando meu pedido, segui explicando que devemos sim manter a&amp;nbsp;consciência&amp;nbsp;do nosso passado para que possamos nos manter lúcidos no presente e prospectar nosso futuro... engasguei pela terceira vez!! Na conclusão me bastou lembrar... somente lembrar e não verbalizar, do meu último ano (de 2009 até agora), e o engasgo foi maior (disparei o canhão)! fiquei alguns segundos parado, olhando para o quadro esperando o ar voltar. Quando olhei para os alunos novamente... vi todos atônitos, com os olhos embaçados também olhando pro nada... já relembrando de suas vidas! Foi arriscado sim, pois de uma certa forma me expus, mas foi mágico, o feedback foi instantâneo! Gostei muito! mesmo que tenha feito sangrar algumas feridas, inclusive a minha, foi gratificante ver que todos entenderam minha mensagem!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ser um facilitador, ou professor como eles me chamam, de uma turma jovem e cheia de anseios misturada a&amp;nbsp;hormônios, requer sensibilidade, responsabilidade, riscos e uma infinita vontade de também aprender com eles! É assim que me vejo! Um eterno mestre aprendiz!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-1202190113860985406?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QlNRIfprOA-yv-a066ROb8TD6d4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QlNRIfprOA-yv-a066ROb8TD6d4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QlNRIfprOA-yv-a066ROb8TD6d4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QlNRIfprOA-yv-a066ROb8TD6d4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/x1DSCMIrNDA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/1202190113860985406/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=1202190113860985406&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/1202190113860985406?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/1202190113860985406?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/x1DSCMIrNDA/tiro-no-pe.html" title="TIRO NO PÉ" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S6uI8BSs0jI/AAAAAAAAAkk/OI3H40qbhNw/s72-c/um-tiro-no-pe.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/03/tiro-no-pe.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcBRn09cCp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-7005718689791701828</id><published>2010-02-26T01:21:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:47:37.368-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:47:37.368-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="NOSTALGIA" /><title>SAUDOSA INFÂNCIA</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.decoracao-casa.com/public/images/produtos/4053/variantes/4054/pt/galeria/jogo%20de%20infancia-m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.decoracao-casa.com/public/images/produtos/4053/variantes/4054/pt/galeria/jogo%20de%20infancia-m.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Às&amp;nbsp;vezes me pego pensando em tudo... imaginando e&amp;nbsp;recaindo&amp;nbsp;nas mais tristes sensações! É inevitável!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sinto falta da minha infância... da minha burra e inocente&amp;nbsp;existência&amp;nbsp;desta época! sinto falta de não perceber as coisas... de não me preocupar comigo mesmo!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quisera eu fosse forte o suficiente para passar por cima de tudo que me atormenta... mas confesso-me fraco!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jamais vou desistir de lutar... nunca vou me entregar, pois assumi este compromisso com a mulher que amo, mas inevitável... cansar às vezes!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu choro irrita quem não sabe como ajudar... meu sorriso me irrita quando não é pra valer! Mas ainda mais sei que tenho o dever de me recompor.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-7005718689791701828?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_lukfKoNDI-2LfgSNw4BNGIvD2A/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_lukfKoNDI-2LfgSNw4BNGIvD2A/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/_lukfKoNDI-2LfgSNw4BNGIvD2A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_lukfKoNDI-2LfgSNw4BNGIvD2A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/BwOhzYUc38I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/7005718689791701828/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=7005718689791701828&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/7005718689791701828?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/7005718689791701828?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/BwOhzYUc38I/as-me-pego-pensando-em-tudo.html" title="SAUDOSA INFÂNCIA" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/02/as-me-pego-pensando-em-tudo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUNR305eyp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-3618785620024664995</id><published>2010-01-22T09:46:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:51:36.323-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:51:36.323-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASSIM SE VIVE" /><title>SÓ BLOGAR NÃO BASTA...</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S1mK6Ej5YHI/AAAAAAAAAkE/0t9YKIBl_ug/s1600-h/taxista-bem-estar-soumaiseu-166.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="202" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S1mK6Ej5YHI/AAAAAAAAAkE/0t9YKIBl_ug/s400/taxista-bem-estar-soumaiseu-166.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Conheci o blog &lt;a href="http://www.taxitramas.blogspot.com/"&gt;Taxitramas &lt;/a&gt;através de dois primos que também possuiam blogs. Comecei a ler e gostei, Mauro é um cara diferenciado (é o que aparenta em suas escritas). Mas de início questionei o porquê de tanto se falar nele, pois existem "zilhões" de blogs pela rede e pouquíssimos fazem tanto sucesso.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bem, depois de acompanhar por todo este tempo, percebi que a diferença, o que faz tanto sucesso, não são somente as histórias narradas, mas sim o cotidiano através das atitudes do Mauro. O cara é mais do que taxista e mais do que blogueiro, ele se faz presente na maioria das histórias e leva até seus passageiros o "apoio" (ainda que em uma simples corrida) que muitas vezes lhes falta, ou como ele mesmo disse em matéria a revista&lt;a href="http://mdemulher.abril.com.br/bem-estar/reportagem/viver-bem/criei-blog-contar-vejo-taxi-527416.shtml"&gt; Sou Mais Eu da editora Abril&lt;/a&gt;, muitas vezes empresta seu ouvido.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas além disso, pelo que leio em suas histórias, ele não se estressa em ter que ajudar com suas atitudes, tipo, ajudar um passageiro velhinho a achar o túmulo da esposa e ainda colocar flores , pois estava velhinho demais e não lembrava onde ficava, levar alguém ao PS, em fim!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nas histórias que leio, percebo que há um lado humano em toda esta atmosfera, o blog é sim um mero meio de comunicação onde, alguém que procura fazer a diferença, conta suas histórias. Isto é raro no mundo de hoje, onde todos buscamos nossa individualidade, tentando ter mais doando menos.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mauro Castro está de parabéns não só pelo blog, que é gostoso de ler, mas principalmente por suas atitudes diárias!! Recomendo sem restrição nem "poréns"... o blog e o taxi! hehehehe&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-3618785620024664995?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LFZWJC7o_9GExgXUncHGewJJDzg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LFZWJC7o_9GExgXUncHGewJJDzg/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/LFZWJC7o_9GExgXUncHGewJJDzg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LFZWJC7o_9GExgXUncHGewJJDzg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/GWYwPMNA3uo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/3618785620024664995/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=3618785620024664995&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/3618785620024664995?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/3618785620024664995?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/GWYwPMNA3uo/escrever-e-praticar.html" title="SÓ BLOGAR NÃO BASTA..." /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S1mK6Ej5YHI/AAAAAAAAAkE/0t9YKIBl_ug/s72-c/taxista-bem-estar-soumaiseu-166.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/01/escrever-e-praticar.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMEQncyfyp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-7498094306777574212</id><published>2010-01-20T01:56:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:53:23.997-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:53:23.997-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="NOSTALGIA" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASSIM SE VIVE" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="RETÓRICA" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="LOKURA" /><title>FIM DE CASO</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S1Z8K0KS8qI/AAAAAAAAAj8/VPXTtJd_JYk/s1600-h/interior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S1Z8K0KS8qI/AAAAAAAAAj8/VPXTtJd_JYk/s400/interior.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Tenho sentido tanta coisa nos últimos dias que me dá medo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Penso em tudo... em todos... em mim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Vejo minha existência tão sem sentido que mal posso esperar tudo chegar ao fim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Tenho estado triste, solitário em meus sentimentos e pensamentos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Me percebo tão insuficiente que só consigo verbalizar: - Desculpe-me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Nada nem ninguém pode me salvar... me sinto naufragando... me diluindo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Nada posso nem consigo... me sinto abandonado até por mim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Se não fosse ter quem tenho (realmente), não mais estaria aqui... é só o que tem me mantido&amp;nbsp;lúcido&amp;nbsp;e vivo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Mas confesso que minha vontade se extingue a cada dia... da mesma forma (exatamente e literalmente igual) a vida abandona um corpo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Sinto falta do meu filho, da minha família... sinto falta do meu sorriso espontâneo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Sinto falta de ser feliz!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Sou atropelado... iludido, sufocado todos os dias. Tem sido difícil!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Estou quase jogando a toalha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Minha solidão é tanta que este desabafo é para comigo mesmo, pois nem este blog será lido!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Me sinto a esmo... no escuro do pior momento da minha alma! Não sei de mais nada!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Somente em lágrimas consigo me expressar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Somente de suspiros vazios meus pulmões respiram!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Me faço o que menos aprecio no ser humano : UM FRACO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Por onde andará meu recomeço, é desconhecido...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Por onde se dará o inicio do meu fim, ignoro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Por onde meu interior anda, nem mesmo Deus sabe!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-7498094306777574212?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BLp7C2i_JgGw6b1o0XUIXOOtZS4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BLp7C2i_JgGw6b1o0XUIXOOtZS4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BLp7C2i_JgGw6b1o0XUIXOOtZS4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BLp7C2i_JgGw6b1o0XUIXOOtZS4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/v6XP3_ZRE5I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/7498094306777574212/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=7498094306777574212&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/7498094306777574212?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/7498094306777574212?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/v6XP3_ZRE5I/tenho-sentido-tanta-coisa-nos-ultimos.html" title="FIM DE CASO" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S1Z8K0KS8qI/AAAAAAAAAj8/VPXTtJd_JYk/s72-c/interior.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/01/tenho-sentido-tanta-coisa-nos-ultimos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMDRXs6fip7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-8797775384306831598</id><published>2010-01-18T18:34:00.005-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:54:34.516-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:54:34.516-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="RETÓRICA" /><title>Haiti</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S1TBGhPL1UI/AAAAAAAAAj0/lhxZF8hVTYo/s1600-h/haiti3_twitter--400x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S1TBGhPL1UI/AAAAAAAAAj0/lhxZF8hVTYo/s320/haiti3_twitter--400x300.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nas últimas semanas só o que se vê é a desgraça do Haiti.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Destruição... morte e seu cheiro que chega a transpor a tela da TV.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas é indiscutível que devemos pensar, e muito a respeito!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Em um blog que &lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://100querer.blogspot.com/"&gt;100mpre&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt; visito, li sobre o assunto algo que foi escrito através de uma linha de raciocínio um tanto revoltada... mas realista (&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://100querer.blogspot.com/2010/01/do-outro-lado-da-risca.html"&gt;saiba mais...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;).&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sobressai&amp;nbsp;neste texto o quanto somos parecidos com o Haiti, pois não damos um passo que seja, sem estarmos olhando pro nosso bem estar egoísta, assim, onde deveríamos nos unir em busca de soluções igualitárias, somos intolerantes e buscamos somente o lucro diário de&amp;nbsp;sobrevivência&amp;nbsp;sem questionar a lei de ação e reação.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Neste país miserável e pobre, onde a guerra civil é o seu cartão postal, há agora uma obrigatória coesão pela intenção de salvar ou ao menos fazer renascer o humanismo perdido.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Agora, oportunamente, surgem "bondosos" governantes oferecendo ajuda, surgem "pessoas de bom coração" aqui mesmo da terra brasilis. E as mesmas pessoas que, ao ver um indigente, um desempregado, um negro vestido de forma simples, repudiam esta nacional situação eminente. Mas pela intenção hipócritamente humanista, faz doações (e conta pra todo mundo é claro) e preocupa-se com o sofrimento destes seres que, se um dia passassem por elas nas ruas, trocariam de calçada por medo de serem assaltadas.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"- Alguém sempre cresce na crise" - frase do personagem &lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.teledramaturgia.com.br/images/cidade_laranjinha.jpg"&gt;laranjinha&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt; em &lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://cinemacomrapadura.com.br/criticas/83840/cidade-dos-homens-o-filme-2007-83840/"&gt;cidade dos homens&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E assim se faz um país!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-8797775384306831598?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Reve_vGAhLfJ2W881ZXXKXrcI0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Reve_vGAhLfJ2W881ZXXKXrcI0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Reve_vGAhLfJ2W881ZXXKXrcI0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Reve_vGAhLfJ2W881ZXXKXrcI0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/Q6139PB97Pg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/8797775384306831598/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=8797775384306831598&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/8797775384306831598?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/8797775384306831598?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/Q6139PB97Pg/haiti.html" title="Haiti" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S1TBGhPL1UI/AAAAAAAAAj0/lhxZF8hVTYo/s72-c/haiti3_twitter--400x300.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/01/haiti.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkIMQn45fyp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-6010015836531242149</id><published>2010-01-03T22:15:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:56:23.027-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:56:23.027-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO" /><title>Pedaço que falta...</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Às vezes, penso que a saudade me esqueceu e finalmente não mais me castiga...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Engano!!! Ela corrói minhas entranhas e aniquila meu&amp;nbsp;equilíbrio&amp;nbsp;emocional!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;É como uma porrada na boca do estômago...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Reavivando minha memória dos momentos mais estúpidos que vivi!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Às vezes...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sinto o cheiro e o gosto...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sinto a respiração bem pertinho!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Escuto a voz...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas só o vazio está a minha frente!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sinto tanta falta que nem ar consigo buscar...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nem energia tenho mais!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Meu anjinho não mais está aqui...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Só a saudade que sinto dele!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me resta então...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S0EzFDPZX9I/AAAAAAAAAdM/aoJ8SdKXWLo/s1600-h/Imag027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S0EzFDPZX9I/AAAAAAAAAdM/aoJ8SdKXWLo/s400/Imag027.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Enxugar o inevitável pranto e seguir adiante...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mesmo que assim...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sem um pedaço!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Saudades de ti meu filho!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-6010015836531242149?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fjoYVMnSw3LlyCscTpt0mtXrYMw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fjoYVMnSw3LlyCscTpt0mtXrYMw/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/fjoYVMnSw3LlyCscTpt0mtXrYMw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fjoYVMnSw3LlyCscTpt0mtXrYMw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/gmR3lptGRLA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/6010015836531242149/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=6010015836531242149&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6010015836531242149?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6010015836531242149?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/gmR3lptGRLA/as-vezes-penso-que-saudade-me-esqueceu.html" title="Pedaço que falta..." /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S0EzFDPZX9I/AAAAAAAAAdM/aoJ8SdKXWLo/s72-c/Imag027.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/01/as-vezes-penso-que-saudade-me-esqueceu.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEBR306eip7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-2828348360413531867</id><published>2010-01-01T16:18:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:57:36.312-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:57:36.312-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ASSIM SE VIVE" /><title /><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/Sz440t5jRvI/AAAAAAAAAdE/PYw4oZywPAA/s1600-h/novo-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/Sz440t5jRvI/AAAAAAAAAdE/PYw4oZywPAA/s400/novo-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;D&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;e tudo fica a certeza de que a vida é o mistério da morte e não o contrário...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De que um novo começo é mais palpável do que o simples recomeço, pois recomeçar é apenas tentar, e começar do zero é a real necessidade!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De que a natureza humana surpreende a si mesma a cada dia... com seus ímpetos, com suas fraquesas e com seus perdões!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De que o amor é inerente ao fato existencialista do homem... seja amor ao próximo, a companheira ou companheiro, ou simplesmente a si mesmo!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fica a certeza incontestável que somos menores que um grão de areia aos olhos do criador...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A certeza de que não somos donos de nada... nem de nós mesmos!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fica clara a fragilidade da existência independente da essência!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fica estampado o quanto somos precisados de afeto... de compaixão... de compreensão! Embora isto nos seja raro hoje em dia... embora nem sempre os nossos nos proporcionem este recurso.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Torna-se então, indiscutível que o que passa... o que vai embora... o que perece, é mais do que simples passado... é indispensável para amenizar as dores... as mágoas! É a verdade contrária do gerúndio da vida!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2009 se foi... até que em fim! Mas que 2010 seja ameno... doce... calmo! Jamais desejando a perfeição do destino, mas sim, que venha para cicatrizar as feridas e rombos deixados por 2009!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que possamos, ao final deste novo ano, dizer com todas as letras: FOI UM FELIZ 2010!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-2828348360413531867?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J_TPufdpq5tX3Do89MAsdCXuMow/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J_TPufdpq5tX3Do89MAsdCXuMow/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/J_TPufdpq5tX3Do89MAsdCXuMow/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J_TPufdpq5tX3Do89MAsdCXuMow/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/oyNEQWP_1kw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/2828348360413531867/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=2828348360413531867&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/2828348360413531867?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/2828348360413531867?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/oyNEQWP_1kw/de-tudo-fica-certeza-de-que-vida-e-o.html" title="" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/Sz440t5jRvI/AAAAAAAAAdE/PYw4oZywPAA/s72-c/novo-1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2010/01/de-tudo-fica-certeza-de-que-vida-e-o.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAMQ3o5cCp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-3610166289091925086</id><published>2009-11-04T01:54:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T00:59:42.428-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T00:59:42.428-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="LOKURA" /><title>NÓ MENTAL</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/SvD6eHmxtbI/AAAAAAAAAa0/9dHo0B0QqVE/s1600-h/SOFRIMENTO.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/SvD6eHmxtbI/AAAAAAAAAa0/9dHo0B0QqVE/s320/SOFRIMENTO.jpg" width="253" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 82px;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;ntre um cigarro e outro, pensamentos flutuantes divagam sobre tudo que nada existe...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Como uma dissonante existência, o contratempo entre ser, estar e possuir.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E pelo processo definitivo das coisas...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O silencio murmura sua densa camada introspectiva.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Os sentimentos desalinhados bradam a esmo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Os sentidos aguçados esculhambam a razão.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O que não mais se tem se faz querido...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O que se quer é incógnito...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O que vai ser ninguém sabe.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Projeta-se o gerúndio das mais estranhas formas...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Teme-se o presente pela forma mais irracional.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas sabe-se do passado de tão surrado que é!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O que não é sabido...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;É como as peças se encaixam no presente tão latente e nebuloso.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-3610166289091925086?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sB-cv8yLCZ5-bG1TDSa9IAHLjcY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sB-cv8yLCZ5-bG1TDSa9IAHLjcY/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/sB-cv8yLCZ5-bG1TDSa9IAHLjcY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sB-cv8yLCZ5-bG1TDSa9IAHLjcY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/eB2laEoOZIM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/3610166289091925086/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=3610166289091925086&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/3610166289091925086?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/3610166289091925086?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/eB2laEoOZIM/no-mental.html" title="NÓ MENTAL" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/SvD6eHmxtbI/AAAAAAAAAa0/9dHo0B0QqVE/s72-c/SOFRIMENTO.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-mental.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4DRHwycCp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-7839170502794322308</id><published>2009-10-17T17:39:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T01:02:55.298-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T01:02:55.298-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO" /><title>Pelotas, 13 de outubro de 2009</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Depois de tudo que tem acontecido, tenho pensado muito sobre minha posição neste mundo. Seja como homem, como marido, como filho, como “paidastro”, como genro, como amigo, em fim, como ser humano!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Realmente não sei se sou suficiente como ser humano, não sei se tenho cumprido minha missão. Sinto-me por vezes insuficiente aos que me rodeiam. Sinto-me incapaz, na maioria das vezes, de manter estável a vida dos que de mim dependem e se consigo me fazer suficiente a todos.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tenho me sentido cada dia mais cansado, mas exausto. Como se minhas forças estivessem acabando, me sinto esmorecer dia pós dia.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tenho duvidado de mim de uma forma assustadora, mas inevitável.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Minha cabeça não articula mais nada, é como uma desconexão entre corpo e pensamentos.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Além da triste saudade do meu filhinho, uma depressão existencial me domina e amarra.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Na verdade não sei mais como posso fazer pra suprir todo esse tormento.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Voltei a ter insônia, instabilidade de humor mais forte que nunca, vontade de sumir incontestável... Tudo que me faz sentir à beira da loucura.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não sei mais como, nem o que fazer pra superar tudo! &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ontem, dia das crianças, foi difícil! Uma mistura de saudade com a impiedosa certeza que não posso mais ver meu filho! A certeza que me mostra que nada sou além de carne e osso. A certeza que me soca o rosto mostrando o quanto já perdi tempo na vida e quanto não posso mudar os fatos! Realmente me sinto enlouquecendo aos poucos, perdendo o tino, desejando com mais e mais força que minha passagem por aqui termine o mais rápido possível! To cansado... Esgotado!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me vejo como um fracasso!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não consigo crer em mim como um chefe de família ou como alguém capaz de superar momentos difíceis.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Creio que perdi a batalha. A mesma batalha que travei há anos atrás acreditando ingenuamente que seria capaz de vencer. A mesma batalha que jurei ser gigante pra enfrentar... Mas que na verdade perco a cada dia! Não sei de mais nada.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Todas as minhas certezas, minhas convicções e ideais diluíram com meu choro.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De tudo que acredito só me restou a certeza e a prova de que a morte vem quando quer e leva quem quer, se antes acreditava que nunca veria um filho meu nascer muito menos pensei que fosse ver um filho meu morrer! Mas vi e doeu muito! Senti meu chão ruir e meu corpo caindo e caindo... até agora!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me sinto como um rato de laboratório, parece que estão brincando comigo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De fato não sou um miserável, mas tudo ao meu redor apodrece ou vai embora! Morre ou acaba! Não agüento mais!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não existe socorro pra minha dor, não existe cura.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nunca pedi tanto pra morrer como tenho pedido...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nunca rezei tanto pra deixar esse mundo como tenho rezado!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;QUERO VER MEU FILHO DENOVO!!!!!!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Por pior que eu seja, por mais cruel que eu tenha sido, não creio que eu merecesse isto!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pior!!! Não mereço fazer pessoas boas como minha mulher sentir uma dor destas! Ela só tá passando isso por estar comigo! Me sinto culpado! Pois tudo isto iria acontecer comigo de qualquer forma, então, estando ou não com ela EU iria passar por isso, mas ela não merece sofrer assim! Nem meus outros dois anjinhos! O que eles sabem da vida pra passar por tudo isto?! Por favor meu Deus, acaba logo com isso!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2009/10/no-que-tempo-que-me-deram.html"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;NO TEMPO QUE ME DERAM...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S0eS0f7leRI/AAAAAAAAAdc/SeYrrQ51iEA/s1600-h/l_e_felipo_1_mes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S0eS0f7leRI/AAAAAAAAAdc/SeYrrQ51iEA/s320/l_e_felipo_1_mes.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No que tempo que me deram...&lt;br /&gt;
Eu pude ser e viver a intensidade mais pura e ingênua que&amp;nbsp;meu estado humano concebeu!&lt;br /&gt;
No Tempo que me deram...&lt;br /&gt;
Eu fui rei e fui súdito,&lt;br /&gt;
Fui herói e vilão!&lt;br /&gt;
No tempo que me deram,&lt;br /&gt;
Me permiti ver além do que pude imaginar um dia e crer em uma força tamanha...&lt;br /&gt;
Que me fiz forte... Gigante!&lt;br /&gt;
No tempo que me deram...&lt;br /&gt;
Amparei ao colo meu pedaço perfeito...&lt;br /&gt;
Esquecendo, por um breve momento, o quão imperfeito me tornei ao crescer!&lt;br /&gt;
No tempo que me deram...&lt;br /&gt;
Amei sem esperar ser amado, vivi sem pressa...&lt;br /&gt;
Mas como se não fosse existir amanhã!&lt;br /&gt;
Mas o tempo que me deram...&lt;br /&gt;
Foi curto apesar de intenso!&lt;br /&gt;
Foi pouco apesar da mágica felicidade que vivi!&lt;br /&gt;
Me fez fraco ao seu fim...&lt;br /&gt;
Mostrando-me o quão vulnerável eu sou...&lt;br /&gt;
O quão incapaz eu me sinto...&lt;br /&gt;
O quanto inocente fui ao imaginar que meu fim seria o primeiro!&lt;br /&gt;
E pior, me fez acreditar que iria ouvir meu sangue chamar-me de pai!&lt;br /&gt;
O tempo que me deram...&lt;br /&gt;
Não mais é minha razão de viver, nem minha bandeira erguida no campo de batalha do cotidiano!&amp;nbsp;Hoje meu tempo só não é em vão por que ainda tenho socorro...&lt;br /&gt;
Por que ainda tenho quem amo...&lt;br /&gt;
Por que, mesmo que venha pelo sentimento de dois coraçõezinhos carentes e não pela minha carne...&lt;br /&gt;
Ainda sou chamado de pai!&lt;br /&gt;
Mas ainda assim dói tua ausência.&lt;br /&gt;
Felipo, meu filho...&amp;nbsp;Anjinho...&lt;br /&gt;
A saudade será eterna em nossas vidas...&lt;br /&gt;
Mas, mais ainda teu sorriso em nossas lembranças perpetuou o quanto fostes amado e o quanto nos tornastes felizes!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Te amo meu anjinho!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-7839170502794322308?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dISOezIujw66PzAKdrGNKOXhhOY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dISOezIujw66PzAKdrGNKOXhhOY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/iV3xpl-gWVw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/7839170502794322308/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=7839170502794322308&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/7839170502794322308?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/7839170502794322308?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/iV3xpl-gWVw/pelotas-13-de-outubro-de-2009.html" title="Pelotas, 13 de outubro de 2009" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/S0eS0f7leRI/AAAAAAAAAdc/SeYrrQ51iEA/s72-c/l_e_felipo_1_mes.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2009/10/pelotas-13-de-outubro-de-2009.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cNQXwzfCp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-8059022711288013782</id><published>2009-10-06T01:29:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T01:04:50.284-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T01:04:50.284-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO" /><title>AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/SsrM2SeBqkI/AAAAAAAAAak/NVZrW3AUxUs/s1600-h/jv+%282%29.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389345137144998466" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/SsrM2SeBqkI/AAAAAAAAAak/NVZrW3AUxUs/s320/jv+%282%29.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 240px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tua passada foi mágica!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;As noites em claro te ninando...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;As dores na coluna de tanto ficar contigo no colo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A luta árdua do dia-a-dia...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tudo isto era ricamente recompensado quando eu via teu lindo e inocente sorriso!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quando o dia era cheio de loucuras... turbulento! Eu corria pra casa, afoito e apressado pra ser agraciado pelo teu sorriso, pelo teu olhar me dizendo: "Oi meu velho estressado!"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cada descoberta, cada novidade...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Era motivo de comemoração entre nós!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Teu notório gênio idêntico ao meu e da tua mãe era o comentário geral na família!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Com menos de 3 meses já dava pra ver o quanto gostavas de música (babei com isso!! hehehe!)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas acima de tudo meu amorzinho, me tornastes o homem que jamais sonhei ser um dia! Me destes a alegria singular de ser TEU pai!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nunca serás substituído...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jamais serás esquecido!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas te peço meu anjinho lindo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me espera, pois tenho orado noite após noite pra que nosso reencontro seja breve!!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;TE AMO!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-8059022711288013782?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-GtcveCl4jI1x8igDuI3hXePaGo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-GtcveCl4jI1x8igDuI3hXePaGo/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/-GtcveCl4jI1x8igDuI3hXePaGo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-GtcveCl4jI1x8igDuI3hXePaGo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/SLog1fev-wA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/8059022711288013782/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=8059022711288013782&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/8059022711288013782?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/8059022711288013782?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/SLog1fev-wA/ao-meu-filho-um-anjo.html" title="AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO" /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/SsrM2SeBqkI/AAAAAAAAAak/NVZrW3AUxUs/s72-c/jv+%282%29.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2009/10/ao-meu-filho-um-anjo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UHQXs8eSp7ImA9Wx9XF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958518838636423779.post-6749453652473881423</id><published>2009-10-02T02:54:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T01:07:10.571-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-11T01:07:10.571-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="AO MEU FILHO... UM ANJO" /><title>PEDAÇO DE MIM...</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/SsWYMNet9eI/AAAAAAAAAaU/ym0JOl_bahA/s1600-h/Imag027.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387879864763020770" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/SsWYMNet9eI/AAAAAAAAAaU/ym0JOl_bahA/s400/Imag027.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 400px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 300px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O que se faz quando nos falta um pedaço...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quando uma parte nossa ausenta-se da nossa presença?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O que se faz, quando a alegria some do nosso lar?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu realmente não sei!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Só sei que me sinto sem rumo desde que meu anjinho partiu...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Desde que meu pedacinho de gente, de forma tão precoce nos deixou!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;É uma dor nunca sentida por mim antes.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não fosse minha guerreira-mulher, sei lá o que seria de mim!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tenho tido e sentido coisas nunca antes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;experimentadas&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tenho vivido sob um constante &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pesadelo&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Parece que não aconteceu!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Por vezes me foge o chão...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me falta o ar...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E minha memória impiedosa...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me castiga a cada minuto me fazendo reviver a morte do meu filho!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me lembrando que ninguém precisou me contar...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;reapresentando&lt;/span&gt; aquela cena cruel de vê-lo partir bem diante dos nossos olhos!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Na verdade...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nem sei mais por que vivo...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nem sei mais se vale a pena...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Só sinto vontade de ficar aqui esperando chegar minha vez!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Felipo meu filho...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Te amei e te amo de uma forma tão gigante que me falta o ar!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: ; color: white; font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me espera meu anjinho, papai vai te encontrar!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958518838636423779-6749453652473881423?l=sumonauta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DpTplE3_BBro6zF0-lGphB7j0C4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DpTplE3_BBro6zF0-lGphB7j0C4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DpTplE3_BBro6zF0-lGphB7j0C4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DpTplE3_BBro6zF0-lGphB7j0C4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~4/k1ZRaN6LpU4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/feeds/6749453652473881423/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958518838636423779&amp;postID=6749453652473881423&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6749453652473881423?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958518838636423779/posts/default/6749453652473881423?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SumonautaIi/~3/k1ZRaN6LpU4/pedaco-de-mim.html" title="PEDAÇO DE MIM..." /><author><name>ALEXANDRE SANTOS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16781842698089810161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="28" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/TUFSWBVkwOI/AAAAAAAAAos/8jeOlpeRUpQ/s220/logo%2Bsumonauta.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N2NychcECCE/SsWYMNet9eI/AAAAAAAAAaU/ym0JOl_bahA/s72-c/Imag027.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sumonauta.blogspot.com/2009/10/pedaco-de-mim.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

