<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><rss xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" version="2.0"><channel><title>Pensamentos Sincronizados</title><description>Porque as coincidências... não existem.</description><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Ms.)</managingEditor><pubDate>Wed, 28 Aug 2024 14:13:44 +0100</pubDate><generator>Blogger http://www.blogger.com</generator><openSearch:totalResults xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/">43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/">1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/">25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/</link><language>en-us</language><itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit><copyright>Textos e poemas por _BlondieGirl_</copyright><itunes:keywords>podcast,pensamentos,sincronizados,poemas,textos,realidade,sociedade</itunes:keywords><itunes:summary>Ouça os meus textos em versão podcast.</itunes:summary><itunes:subtitle>Pensamentos Sincronizados (Podcast)</itunes:subtitle><itunes:category text="Society &amp; Culture"><itunes:category text="Personal Journals"/></itunes:category><itunes:author>_BlondieGirl_</itunes:author><itunes:owner><itunes:email>noreply@blogger.com</itunes:email><itunes:name>_BlondieGirl_</itunes:name></itunes:owner><item><title>Morrer</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2013/11/morrer.html</link><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Thu, 28 Nov 2013 02:42:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-3799938413907049207</guid><description>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
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&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKSA3QMX1Kav_WqXMd8TBi_fhlqHWDiCfWT9e4ZwbsxBS-VJ9HD1e57RiMXqVeUtI6Qq6HGtdVT-XJYFKHdyHnzgVa5EyQol0zH90ZDY-nXIw7OCl_Z-eCUgH98ftbBkYHY9z/s1600/death_other_side.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKSA3QMX1Kav_WqXMd8TBi_fhlqHWDiCfWT9e4ZwbsxBS-VJ9HD1e57RiMXqVeUtI6Qq6HGtdVT-XJYFKHdyHnzgVa5EyQol0zH90ZDY-nXIw7OCl_Z-eCUgH98ftbBkYHY9z/s320/death_other_side.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Quando clamo que morrer é renascer&lt;/div&gt;
Não é uma simples frase feita&lt;br /&gt;
Seja natural ou maleita&lt;br /&gt;
É fazer a cama onde te deitas&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Esquecem-se os problemas dos vivos&lt;/div&gt;
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Abraçando-se os mortos na calmaria&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Deixas para trás o frívolos&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Que outrora seguiam a correria&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Agora já não há pressa&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
O tempo deixou de existir&lt;/div&gt;
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É agora um relógio avariado&lt;/div&gt;
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Que não avisa quando partir&lt;/div&gt;
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Vai, passa para o "outro lado"!&lt;/div&gt;
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Aqui já não resolves nada...&lt;/div&gt;
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Aceita aquilo pelo qual lutaste&lt;/div&gt;
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E não chores o que nâo choraste&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Observas de longe os teus entes&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Percebes agora a sua vida&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Mas já não importa aquilo que sentes&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Não passas de uma alma perdida&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Vagueando nesse desconhecido assustador&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Em que não sentes nada, nem mesmo a dor.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Vai!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"&gt;
Agora.&lt;/div&gt;
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</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKSA3QMX1Kav_WqXMd8TBi_fhlqHWDiCfWT9e4ZwbsxBS-VJ9HD1e57RiMXqVeUtI6Qq6HGtdVT-XJYFKHdyHnzgVa5EyQol0zH90ZDY-nXIw7OCl_Z-eCUgH98ftbBkYHY9z/s72-c/death_other_side.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Constância</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2013/02/constancia.html</link><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Wed, 13 Feb 2013 00:18:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-5926956221344007529</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKZmkkCoh2aaEf_B3bsMF_AxXlkTg3aSUWPDSM6pgmUtUqkGaLDQJ8VtMzQ-A5QVxCgBORFsZEeFObNLqBhlae0PcrwCvNn7KrEMx3P9uoje_AYbNLUTpWwZW-u4FHlWhVYg5/s1600/domino.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKZmkkCoh2aaEf_B3bsMF_AxXlkTg3aSUWPDSM6pgmUtUqkGaLDQJ8VtMzQ-A5QVxCgBORFsZEeFObNLqBhlae0PcrwCvNn7KrEMx3P9uoje_AYbNLUTpWwZW-u4FHlWhVYg5/s320/domino.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;
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Sinto apatia pela utopia que promete uma mudança que não vejo&lt;/div&gt;
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Um adorno de promessas embelezadas por um beijo&lt;/div&gt;
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Que me deixa assim, sem jeito, sem reacção&lt;/div&gt;
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Apertando firmemente este pobre coração&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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É uma maleita perfeita que me mantém presa&lt;/div&gt;
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Encalusurada pela minha própria ânsia&lt;/div&gt;
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Tenho medo, pavor da certeza&lt;/div&gt;
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Deverei quebrar esta constância?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Vivo num conflito interno de impulsos irracionais&lt;/div&gt;
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Como qualquer ser, almejo felicidade&lt;/div&gt;
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Quero liberdade!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;
Mas sou fria e justa, devo isso à minha alma&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;
Quero mais!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;
Alma que apenas complica o descomplicado&lt;/div&gt;
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Emanharanhando valores num grande conglomerado&lt;/div&gt;
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Impede-me de dar um passo em frente e dizer&lt;/div&gt;
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Chega de prisão, quero viver!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;
A ouvir:&lt;b&gt; Borknagar - The Plains of Memories&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/J4I_M6o4hI0" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKZmkkCoh2aaEf_B3bsMF_AxXlkTg3aSUWPDSM6pgmUtUqkGaLDQJ8VtMzQ-A5QVxCgBORFsZEeFObNLqBhlae0PcrwCvNn7KrEMx3P9uoje_AYbNLUTpWwZW-u4FHlWhVYg5/s72-c/domino.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Podcast: Misantropia</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2012/05/podcast-misantropia.html</link><category>podcasts</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Wed, 9 May 2012 03:24:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-6032867877870231430</guid><description>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/ps-odio_ou_indiferenca.mp3"&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191814587705496178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s200/podcast.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0pt;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/anahnarciso-misantropia.mp3"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Podcast aqui&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;- Misantropia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-um-podcast.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small; font-style: italic;"&gt;(o que é um podcast?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Música base:&lt;/b&gt; Dimmu Borgir -&amp;nbsp;Inn I Evighetens Mørke (Part 1)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Espero que gostem.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="284" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0Y1BQ9XlLXQ" width="500"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s72-c/podcast.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Misantropia</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2012/05/misantropia.html</link><category>podcasts</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Tue, 8 May 2012 03:04:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-7399052878273177098</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFbgElVrrYFvFDvAbcVGX-YT2mf4Dop4Yhs5Dp8vJSRl1tQo8wU7M0ls9adYCzYMLp_bIcPuyksIw8prR5JB1fd8Sj9cN5zNjsTVaTjZPeosbi7jYKNv6-crkd6ALlPo4NgS2s/s1600/misantropia-alcoolica-copia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFbgElVrrYFvFDvAbcVGX-YT2mf4Dop4Yhs5Dp8vJSRl1tQo8wU7M0ls9adYCzYMLp_bIcPuyksIw8prR5JB1fd8Sj9cN5zNjsTVaTjZPeosbi7jYKNv6-crkd6ALlPo4NgS2s/s320/misantropia-alcoolica-copia.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/ps-odio_ou_indiferenca.mp3"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191814587705496178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s200/podcast.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/anahnarciso-misantropia.mp3"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Podcast aqui&lt;/b&gt; - Misantropia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-um-podcast.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(o que é um podcast?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sinto aversão à humanidade e desconfio a caridade&lt;br /&gt;
Para quê criar laços de amizade que só provocam saudade?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ferem por dentro, o centro da minha ingenuidade já pequena&lt;br /&gt;
Qual a utilidade desta intimidade quase obscena?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
É preferível viver isolada, afastada do mundo&lt;br /&gt;
Lamentando cada segundo perdido com as palavras&lt;br /&gt;
Arremessadas como pedradas a este meu corpo moribundo&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Não sou antipática mas sim apática&lt;br /&gt;
Numa expressão quase fanática pela letargia emocional&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A minha mente lunática oscila num turbilhão de cálculos&lt;br /&gt;
Que prevêem aquilo que os outros não vêem&lt;br /&gt;
Antecipando o único final possível: o fim desta vida desprezível!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Ouvindo:&lt;/b&gt; Dimmu Borgir -&amp;nbsp;Inn I Evighetens Mørke&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="287" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eY1YV9rRdew" width="380"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PS: A palavra "misantropia" veio-me à cabeça durante esta noite. Decidi colocar-me na pele de um verdadeiro misantropo e expressar em palavras aquilo que sentia. Foi este o resultado.</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFbgElVrrYFvFDvAbcVGX-YT2mf4Dop4Yhs5Dp8vJSRl1tQo8wU7M0ls9adYCzYMLp_bIcPuyksIw8prR5JB1fd8Sj9cN5zNjsTVaTjZPeosbi7jYKNv6-crkd6ALlPo4NgS2s/s72-c/misantropia-alcoolica-copia.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Nova vida</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2011/05/nova-vida.html</link><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Sun, 29 May 2011 23:54:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-1447740364561423573</guid><description>&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH6rdOcHcGLg1iTh9hbDTfvRhy0DQVJnRIHnFKc0wJXbKZy8PT7OUvJuiT524_aHKzA3eEIs_EALWs5N4_7fB3QhtqVXeyXCJqacHn5NgLGFIqEQ2xql3uRP4KK6RF1ieHfJux/s1600/New_life.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH6rdOcHcGLg1iTh9hbDTfvRhy0DQVJnRIHnFKc0wJXbKZy8PT7OUvJuiT524_aHKzA3eEIs_EALWs5N4_7fB3QhtqVXeyXCJqacHn5NgLGFIqEQ2xql3uRP4KK6RF1ieHfJux/s1600/New_life.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 327px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Acaba a académica e começa a laboral,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Essa vida vivida sempre a correr&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Provoca o desencontro quase faltal&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Com quem te ama e não te quer perder.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
É um novo rumo, uma nova direcção&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Que te elevará perante um mundo&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Imerso pela inveja e competição&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Onde mostrarás a tua alma,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Fruto da tua quase irritante calma.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Serve este poema te congratular&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Por todas as vitórias,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Estarei a teu lado para relembrar&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Os teus feitos, as nossas memórias!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH6rdOcHcGLg1iTh9hbDTfvRhy0DQVJnRIHnFKc0wJXbKZy8PT7OUvJuiT524_aHKzA3eEIs_EALWs5N4_7fB3QhtqVXeyXCJqacHn5NgLGFIqEQ2xql3uRP4KK6RF1ieHfJux/s72-c/New_life.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Podcast: Mágoa cardíaca</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2009/09/podcast-magoa-cardiaca.html</link><category>diario</category><category>pessoal</category><category>podcasts</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Fri, 18 Sep 2009 00:03:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-8931520145507536381</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/ps-odio_ou_indiferenca.mp3"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s200/podcast.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191814587705496178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/magoa_cardiaca.mp3"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Podcast aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - Mágoa Cardíaca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-um-podcast.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(o que é um podcast?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero que gostem!</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s72-c/podcast.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Mágoa cardíaca</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2009/09/magoa-cardiaca.html</link><category>diario</category><category>pessoal</category><category>podcasts</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Thu, 10 Sep 2009 02:55:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-6113980267615722851</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgR4rLfJgFMP-Ypuj3SCjHxY0tgZ-ZMnwjqDzvpsxnIv_Yr5Yd34oKo7_FSOMB0d_z4ZRZBu_lxnrIYTCMbmO8xRiYL-U0AaNmEsTBkF2DSRcU7swLxoejV7_ccdjHFbornxlM/s1600-h/cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o+na+m%C3%A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgR4rLfJgFMP-Ypuj3SCjHxY0tgZ-ZMnwjqDzvpsxnIv_Yr5Yd34oKo7_FSOMB0d_z4ZRZBu_lxnrIYTCMbmO8xRiYL-U0AaNmEsTBkF2DSRcU7swLxoejV7_ccdjHFbornxlM/s320/cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o+na+m%C3%A3o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379663617256185058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/ps-odio_ou_indiferenca.mp3"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s200/podcast.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191814587705496178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/magoa_cardiaca.mp3"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Podcast aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - Mágoa Cardíaca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-um-podcast.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(o que é um podcast?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A distância que separa quem se ama&lt;br /&gt;Quadriplica ao mais leve sintoma de solidão&lt;br /&gt;Partilhar os problemas sentados na cama&lt;br /&gt;É muito mais que uma agradável solução.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas quando nada disto é possível&lt;br /&gt;Por este ou aquele motivo concebível,&lt;br /&gt;Há que dar a volta por cima e escolher&lt;br /&gt;Outra forma de partilhar, de viver!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A poesia pelo seu efeito moderador de mente&lt;br /&gt;É que pondera acerca do  que foi feito&lt;br /&gt;Dissecam-se as mágoas de forma ardente&lt;br /&gt;Deixando-me paralisada sobre este leito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deitada lacrimejando com a luz do tecto&lt;br /&gt;Vejo a imagem de quem partiu deste mundo&lt;br /&gt;Desejando ardentemente o seu carinho e afecto&lt;br /&gt;Um consolo agonizante enquanto me afundo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nessa dor que não magoa mas corrói o interior&lt;br /&gt;Onde as minhas entranhas foram perfuradas&lt;br /&gt;E sem qualquer cuidado ou pudor,&lt;br /&gt;Sinto o meu corpo remexido sem amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se brinca com um órgão tão precioso!&lt;br /&gt;Este salta de boca em boca, mão em mão&lt;br /&gt;Sinónimo de vitalidade, tão amoroso...&lt;br /&gt;Esconde a verdade, este meu coração!</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgR4rLfJgFMP-Ypuj3SCjHxY0tgZ-ZMnwjqDzvpsxnIv_Yr5Yd34oKo7_FSOMB0d_z4ZRZBu_lxnrIYTCMbmO8xRiYL-U0AaNmEsTBkF2DSRcU7swLxoejV7_ccdjHFbornxlM/s72-c/cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o+na+m%C3%A3o.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">8</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Invocation</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2009/06/invocation.html</link><category>diario</category><category>pessoal</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Thu, 18 Jun 2009 05:12:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-1516773065254627393</guid><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.americanmeditation.org/images/MotherEarthNoText.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 304px;" src="http://www.americanmeditation.org/images/MotherEarthNoText.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Life's sad and I'm mad&lt;br /&gt;Of this no return sufocation,&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could go now to bed&lt;br /&gt;Looking deeply for my salvation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prey, Mistress of my dreams&lt;br /&gt;Judging this non-sense life&lt;br /&gt;Cutting myself as a knife&lt;br /&gt;Wishing not to be so sad as it seems!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Return to me salvation!&lt;br /&gt;Make me forget my innocence,&lt;br /&gt;Be cold to put up with decadence&lt;br /&gt;And not to fall in my imagination...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, fill me with your power!&lt;br /&gt;Make me reach the highest mountain&lt;br /&gt;Where's the tallest Gods tower&lt;br /&gt;And the wonderful sacred fountain&lt;br /&gt;Where I want to drink forbidden water&lt;br /&gt;And wish this payne could become shorter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poem written in 2006&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Podcast: Indiferença ou ódio?</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2009/03/podcast-indiferenca-ou-odio.html</link><category>musica</category><category>pessoal</category><category>podcasts</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Tue, 31 Mar 2009 21:32:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-3985814077399334969</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/ps-odio_ou_indiferenca.mp3"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s200/podcast.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191814587705496178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/ps-odio_ou_indiferenca.mp3"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Podcast aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-um-podcast.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(o que é um podcast?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parece que a moda dos podcasts veio para ficar... E quem sou eu para a contrariar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cliquem no link acima e relaxem ao som do meu último poema, carinhosamente gravado na música dos senhores &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/bosquesdemimente"&gt;Bosques De Mi Mente&lt;/a&gt;, na sua faixa "Los Titanicos Esfuerzos De Una Bicicleta Oxidada Por Avanzar".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigam a "letra" a partir do &lt;a href="http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2009/03/indiferenca-ou-odio.html"&gt;post original&lt;/a&gt;, se preferirem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aguardam-se opiniões. ;)</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s72-c/podcast.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Indiferença ou ódio?</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2009/03/indiferenca-ou-odio.html</link><category>pessoal</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Tue, 24 Mar 2009 01:15:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-663788986761265325</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/ps-odio_ou_indiferenca.mp3"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s200/podcast.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191814587705496178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/ps-odio_ou_indiferenca.mp3"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Podcast aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-um-podcast.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(o que é um podcast?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRFnNKZRUvuYXPXdYMZnWm0bdU5kkxxK_FnH9VCNzJzUX5m5w2Q8tl6CujGACC7OGiHJv7tafnyTH3L-YHYHU36UBagBMxRnTIkQLm3jmfcsxRlXCqYpQQLU_BAXYb-x9DeLa2/s1600-h/hate_small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRFnNKZRUvuYXPXdYMZnWm0bdU5kkxxK_FnH9VCNzJzUX5m5w2Q8tl6CujGACC7OGiHJv7tafnyTH3L-YHYHU36UBagBMxRnTIkQLm3jmfcsxRlXCqYpQQLU_BAXYb-x9DeLa2/s320/hate_small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316559496411176354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentimentos que parecem similares&lt;br /&gt;Mas bem distantes no efeito destrutivo,&lt;br /&gt;Distinguem-se na troca de olhares&lt;br /&gt;Esquece o amor, não o manterás vivo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens ódio que te corrói o coração,&lt;br /&gt;Raiva que rasga a tua mente&lt;br /&gt;Mantém-te firme e indiferente&lt;br /&gt;Olhando em frente, sem hesitação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um dia por ti passará,&lt;br /&gt;Precisa de ajuda? Não recusarás&lt;br /&gt;Estendes a mão ao teu inimigo&lt;br /&gt;Faz-lhe o que não fez contigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas amar quem nos fere não faz sentido,&lt;br /&gt;São mágoas que escavaram bem fundo&lt;br /&gt;Nesse vazio que tens sofrido&lt;br /&gt;Um vácuo que engole o teu mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que não és má pessoa,&lt;br /&gt;Crês no amor e no seu poder!&lt;br /&gt;Mas por favor, não ames à toa&lt;br /&gt;Ama quem sabes que te vai responder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se queres mostrar-lhe indiferença&lt;br /&gt;Não mistures ódios e crenças&lt;br /&gt;Ergue-te perante ele e  exclama:&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho alguém que me ama!</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s72-c/podcast.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Sad feelings</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2009/02/sad-feelings.html</link><category>pessoal</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Wed, 11 Feb 2009 22:26:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-8876934902622396299</guid><description>I see the emptiness of me,&lt;br /&gt;Drowning feelings to see,&lt;br /&gt;Another world above,&lt;br /&gt;Never going to find... love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little precious sadness,&lt;br /&gt;How I long to embrace you,&lt;br /&gt;Swhirling in darkness&lt;br /&gt;It shows me... something new!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what it takes&lt;br /&gt;To leave me far behind&lt;br /&gt;Never looking back, aches&lt;br /&gt;The pain almost makes me blind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despair strenghts my will&lt;br /&gt;Freezing my lonely heart&lt;br /&gt;And knowing what I feel&lt;br /&gt;It just falls apart...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Random verses / Versos aleatórios&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Não me deixes só</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2009/01/nao-me-deixes-so.html</link><category>pessoal</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Sun, 4 Jan 2009 14:15:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-777727010408304965</guid><description>Ainda sinto o teu peito,&lt;br /&gt;Batida perpétua de excitação&lt;br /&gt;Um impulso de partida&lt;br /&gt;Envolto no teu coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-o bem na minha mão,&lt;br /&gt;Louco p'la doce aventura&lt;br /&gt;Não te esqueças de mim&lt;br /&gt;Sou o amor que perdura!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deslizo até à  cintura,&lt;br /&gt;Aperto a  face contra ti,&lt;br /&gt;Consigo ouvir o teu espírito&lt;br /&gt;Ansioso por partir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não queiras fugir!&lt;br /&gt;Seguro-te pelo braço&lt;br /&gt;E acabarás por ficar aqui,&lt;br /&gt;Sucumbirás ao cansaço...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apenas me dás a mão...&lt;br /&gt;Sinto os teus delicados dedos,&lt;br /&gt;Sedoso toque na minha pele&lt;br /&gt;Que extermina os meus medos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque tenho frio e nada vejo,&lt;br /&gt;Apenas escuto o meu tormento&lt;br /&gt;Levado pelo doce vento&lt;br /&gt;Ao sentir o vazio do teu desejo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não partas de mim,&lt;br /&gt;Do meu mundo perfeito&lt;br /&gt;Deixa-te estar assim...&lt;br /&gt;Enroscado no meu leito!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me deixes só!</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Fantasia</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/12/fantasia.html</link><category>pessoal</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Mon, 15 Dec 2008 01:02:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-2236709640611048874</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikSCuzrwQvp6V-pjuyQrm11C5x9I3plARTQOurqB4TVv30PZbBONbsu-doupqd6V19um_FWFQrbkGfl4oBqW1d3SXWvwX07lOxXqjb-apQkFercmbkKUvmGCvg07k7uZ7_LVG/s1600-h/fansasia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikSCuzrwQvp6V-pjuyQrm11C5x9I3plARTQOurqB4TVv30PZbBONbsu-doupqd6V19um_FWFQrbkGfl4oBqW1d3SXWvwX07lOxXqjb-apQkFercmbkKUvmGCvg07k7uZ7_LVG/s320/fansasia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279816528951522754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;O que é a vida e o que é a morte?&lt;br /&gt;Serei assim tão cega para encontrar o teu caminho&lt;br /&gt;Da salvação de um espírito julgado forte&lt;br /&gt;Que deambula pela noite, sozinho,&lt;br /&gt;Ouvindo o teu silêncio pregando os meus pecados&lt;br /&gt;De uma vida estilhaçada em pedaços.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É o medo do escuro que cresce em mim&lt;br /&gt;Que um dia ganhará vida&lt;br /&gt;Cada vez mais se aproxima o fim,&lt;br /&gt;A minha alma foi a escolhida&lt;br /&gt;E para carregar esta injusta escolha&lt;br /&gt;Terei de ler a minha existência, folha a folha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O medo inunda a minha pobre alma&lt;br /&gt;Até um ponto sem retorno,&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo em pânico, sinto-a calma&lt;br /&gt;Onde a razão não é simples adorno&lt;br /&gt;Que estrangula o meu instinto,&lt;br /&gt;E é por isso que não sinto,&lt;br /&gt;Finjo, mas nunca minto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À medida que adormeço, flutuo…&lt;br /&gt;Unindo-me hermeticamente com o vento&lt;br /&gt;Quem eu queria mesmo conhecer eras tu&lt;br /&gt;E finalmente chegou a hora, o tempo&lt;br /&gt;Num espaço aberto, isolado&lt;br /&gt;Onde qualquer um permanecerá enfeitiçado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O mundo parece ter-se transformado&lt;br /&gt;Embora eu saiba que nada mudou&lt;br /&gt;Tudo isto é falso, meramente imaginado&lt;br /&gt;Fruto da imaginação de quem sonhou&lt;br /&gt;Uma realidade de verdade&lt;br /&gt;A utopia da eterna felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonhando durante todo este tempo&lt;br /&gt;No teu mundo de fantasia, sem alento&lt;br /&gt;Quem consegue acordar&lt;br /&gt;Para a nossa existência questionar?&lt;br /&gt;A essência do sentimento,&lt;br /&gt;A razão de pensar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poema feito no meu 12º semi-baseado na temática de Fernando Pessoa. Comecei, tal como tantas outras pessoas, a ter interesse em textos poéticos graças a este grande senhor. O meu obrigada.&lt;/span&gt;</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikSCuzrwQvp6V-pjuyQrm11C5x9I3plARTQOurqB4TVv30PZbBONbsu-doupqd6V19um_FWFQrbkGfl4oBqW1d3SXWvwX07lOxXqjb-apQkFercmbkKUvmGCvg07k7uZ7_LVG/s72-c/fansasia.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Emma could not believe...</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/12/emma-could-not-believe.html</link><category>prosa</category><pubDate>Mon, 15 Dec 2008 00:35:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-5271103184253308286</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://customize.org/thumbnails/large/28699.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 197px;" src="http://customize.org/thumbnails/large/28699.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Emma could not believe what she saw in front of her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She was standing still, alone, shivering and feeling her feet so cold that she couldn't move an inch. Somehow, everybody had vanished. She couldn't hear anything but her own breath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Her golden hair was shining in the moonlight. She thought she'd heard some whispers... "It could be somebody..." she thought, feeling goosebumps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That forest wasn't very cozy... what was that girl doing? Lost in the woods, when she had to be with her boyfriend, at her comfortable and warm home, celebrating his birthday...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The remaing light had slowly faded away. She fell to her knees and gazed at the moon. Her eyelids closed, she was too tired to walk out of there, maybe it was just really bad dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pequena prosa elaborada para a minha aula de Inglês. A professora deu-nos a primeira frase e devíamos continuá-la numa &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;short story&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Ela pareceu-me um pouco assustada com o meu estilo, lol. Talvez demasiado sombrio... &lt;img src="http://e.deviantart.com/emoticons/b/biggrin.gif" alt=":D" title=":D (Big Grin)" width="15" height="15" /&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Palavras</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/12/palavras.html</link><pubDate>Sat, 13 Dec 2008 22:47:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-1955819619307580818</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://palavraguda.files.wordpress.com/2007/11/palavras1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 221px;" src="http://palavraguda.files.wordpress.com/2007/11/palavras1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apetece-me escrever.&lt;br /&gt;Apetece-me expulsar palavras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enclausuradas, a sofrer,&lt;br /&gt;Ansiando a liberdade de um momento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brotam de mim, a correr&lt;br /&gt;Mais rápidas que o próprio pensamento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fluem, sem escolher,&lt;br /&gt;Uma ordem definida entre elas&lt;br /&gt;Que por tão confusas se tornarem&lt;br /&gt;Acabam por definhar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morrer!</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Vinte</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/10/vinte.html</link><category>diario</category><category>pessoal</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Sat, 4 Oct 2008 23:59:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-1778297861171495887</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzyGjdkvQBPqDy7OIW0LxS7YNXbA6iHbU1RM5GzksSLoKhwnNbYix2k2MOivO4h7bR2Lj1wx_QStUR9GUwqIAXLmXnqbx8ylOk4IlO6eIezZ0Hr1ip6zFXG4i5YVCz6FG-txqH/s1600-h/vinte.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzyGjdkvQBPqDy7OIW0LxS7YNXbA6iHbU1RM5GzksSLoKhwnNbYix2k2MOivO4h7bR2Lj1wx_QStUR9GUwqIAXLmXnqbx8ylOk4IlO6eIezZ0Hr1ip6zFXG4i5YVCz6FG-txqH/s400/vinte.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253444769711875122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vinte Primaveras passaram por mim,&lt;br /&gt;Como algo que nos escapa pelos dedos&lt;br /&gt;A correria desta vida que terá um fim&lt;br /&gt;Não há tempo para medos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viver um dia de cada vez é treta&lt;br /&gt;Quero viver todos de uma só vez&lt;br /&gt;Planeio o futuro com muito amor&lt;br /&gt;Penso no passado para evitar a dor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuo prendida por algo superior,&lt;br /&gt;A minha vida ainda mal começou!&lt;br /&gt;Enfim livre, voarei para bem longe&lt;br /&gt;Deixar liberto aquilo que sou!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero viver,&lt;br /&gt;Quero voar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lutar pelo meu grande sonho,&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto há força para continuar!</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzyGjdkvQBPqDy7OIW0LxS7YNXbA6iHbU1RM5GzksSLoKhwnNbYix2k2MOivO4h7bR2Lj1wx_QStUR9GUwqIAXLmXnqbx8ylOk4IlO6eIezZ0Hr1ip6zFXG4i5YVCz6FG-txqH/s72-c/vinte.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Voltar à vida</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/09/voltar-vida.html</link><category>pessoal</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Wed, 24 Sep 2008 00:25:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-806930744437565613</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://undergrowth.org/system/files/images/tree-of-life-colour.preview.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://undergrowth.org/system/files/images/tree-of-life-colour.preview.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deitada neste leito de descanso&lt;br /&gt;Olhando a vida à minha volta, ignoro...&lt;br /&gt;Viro a cara ao meu falhanço&lt;br /&gt;E durmo, envergonho-me quando choro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque tudo é idêntico, indistinto&lt;br /&gt;Fruto da mesma gestação forçada,&lt;br /&gt;Tudo é guiado pelo instinto&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém se opõe à caminhada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou assim, díspar, distinta, diferente,&lt;br /&gt;Única, valiosa, preciosa, carinhosa para alguém&lt;br /&gt;Anormal, antagónica, adversa para demasiada gente&lt;br /&gt;Mas não mudarei por isso, simplesmente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Árvore da vida que és bela e imponente&lt;br /&gt;Tens ramos secos, árvore amorosa&lt;br /&gt;Cortarei o mal pela tua raiz rancorosa&lt;br /&gt;Cairás por terra, docemente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plantarei uma nova semente e crescerás&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitei o teu melhor, esqueci o pior&lt;br /&gt;Iniciarei uma nova era de felicidade&lt;br /&gt;E florirás transpirando vivacidade!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colherei os teus melhores frutos,&lt;br /&gt;Saciarás a minha fome de liberdade&lt;br /&gt;As tuas sementes depressa cairão&lt;br /&gt;Para iniciar uma nova geração!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orgulhar-me-ei de tal feito&lt;br /&gt;Olhando para trás sem receio&lt;br /&gt;Naquilo por qual sempre lutei&lt;br /&gt;Tornar-me numa rainha...&lt;br /&gt;Ao lado do seu rei!</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Para Ti, Mãe!</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/05/para-ti-me.html</link><category>pessoal</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Sun, 4 May 2008 23:47:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-7384659422020626145</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/080504_para_ti_mae.mp3"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s200/podcast.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191814587705496178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/080504_para_ti_mae.mp3"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Podcast aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-um-podcast.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(o que é um podcast?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que desprezas versos sofristas,&lt;br /&gt;Palavras carregadas de ódio e rancor&lt;br /&gt;Sentimentos puídos de uma mente fatalista&lt;br /&gt;Que por poucos, ainda sente amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que pensas que ignoro tudo,&lt;br /&gt;Que perdi a capacidade de amar&lt;br /&gt;Mas ela laje neste coração mudo&lt;br /&gt;Sempre pronta, para se entregar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Odeio quem me pisa ainda mais,&lt;br /&gt;Esperando pacientemente pelo amolecimento&lt;br /&gt;Até tudo parecer perfeito demais&lt;br /&gt;E nessa altura, começa o tormento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estou cansada deste sobe e desce&lt;br /&gt;A mente humana não foi criada assim!&lt;br /&gt;Escolho a dedo quem realmente merece,&lt;br /&gt;E aí, terás tudo o que quiseres de mim!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sabes aquilo que sou, o que criaste&lt;br /&gt;Dorida bomba-relógio descrescendo até ao final&lt;br /&gt;Que acelera muito mais se me acertaste&lt;br /&gt;E explodirá um dia, para uma vida normal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sempre desprezarei quem me espezinhar, quem me espezinhou&lt;br /&gt;Sou uma alma ferida, eu sei&lt;br /&gt;No entanto, quem me acarinhou , quando precisei&lt;br /&gt;Terá aquilo que verdadeiramente sou&lt;br /&gt;E isso, eu nunca esquecerei!</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s72-c/podcast.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>O que é um podcast?</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-um-podcast.html</link><pubDate>Mon, 21 Apr 2008 22:25:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-2677696206858376149</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Podcasting"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Podcasting&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt; é uma forma de publicação de programas de &lt;a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%81udio" class="mw-redirect" title="Áudio"&gt;áudio&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/V%C3%ADdeo" title="Vídeo"&gt;vídeo&lt;/a&gt; e/ou &lt;a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fotos" class="mw-redirect" title="Fotos"&gt;fotos&lt;/a&gt; pela &lt;a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Internet" title="Internet"&gt;Internet&lt;/a&gt; que permite aos utilizadores acompanhar a sua actualização. A palavra "podcasting" é uma junção de &lt;a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/IPod" title="IPod"&gt;iPod&lt;/a&gt; - um aparelho que toca arquivos digitais em MP3/MP4 - e broadcasting (transmissão de rádio ou TV).&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Assim, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;podcast&lt;/span&gt; são arquivos de áudio que podem ser acedidos pela Internet.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Estes ficheiros de audio podem ser actualizados automaticamente mediante uma espécie de assinatura (&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/pensamentos-sincronizados"&gt;feed RSS&lt;/a&gt;). Os arquivos podem ser ouvidos directamente no browser ou baixados no computador.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Como posso subscrever automaticamente aos podcasts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Utilizando um leitor de áudio compatível (todos são grátis):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Windows: &lt;a href="http://www.winamp.com/"&gt;Winamp&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/itunes/download/"&gt;iTunes,&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.mediamonkey.com/"&gt;MediaMonkey&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://juicereceiver.sourceforge.net/"&gt;Juice&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linux: &lt;a href="http://amarok.kde.org/"&gt;Amarok&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://juicereceiver.sourceforge.net/"&gt;Juice&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mac: &lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/itunes/download/"&gt;iTunes&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://juicereceiver.sourceforge.net/"&gt;Juice&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Existem muitos mais, postem nos comentários mais sugestões.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em cada um destes leitores, basta aceder à opção podcast e adicionar o feed deste blog:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/pensamentos-sincronizados"&gt;http://feeds.feedburner.com/pensamentos-sincronizados&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E pronto, terão sempre as novidades mais fresquinhas!</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Dessincronização</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/dessincronizao.html</link><category>diario</category><category>pessoal</category><pubDate>Wed, 16 Apr 2008 01:21:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-3256875811254096575</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/2008-04-19_dessincronizacao.mp3"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s200/podcast.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191814587705496178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/25/923993/Podcasts/2008-04-19_dessincronizacao.mp3"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Podcast aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-um-podcast.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(o que é um podcast?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estou realmente cansada, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cansada de espírito&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;As horas de sono não abundam, mas infelizmente o dia tem apenas 24h...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estudar é preciso, mas a necessidade é outra.&lt;br /&gt;A de expressar pensamentos dessincronizados, baralhados num emaranhado de ideias confusas e desorganizadas.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez a melhor solução seja o descanso... o corpo pede, a mente concorda, mas a consciência reclama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabem que mais?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cama!</description><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiScyqGV6WX4WUWQfLRSXEwKX-kJRDXDwlWMld_nsyUeHzhUrZCYYNEFdj2Yoew7NfQTkOffDBOn1iMpcJJIe-NGT8h7LUR1xIR9hkQnA_t1E9avDjmiddlFi8Yitga89c419So/s72-c/podcast.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>No Comboio</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-comboio.html</link><category>diario</category><category>pessoal</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Wed, 16 Apr 2008 00:51:00 +0100</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-4380829595729536649</guid><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://paginas.fe.up.pt/iscc/images/14_assistir/cp_150anos_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://paginas.fe.up.pt/iscc/images/14_assistir/cp_150anos_01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aquele ritual monocórdico, embora fugaz&lt;br /&gt;Sempre a mesma voz anunciando a partida,&lt;br /&gt;Deixam as famílias para trás&lt;br /&gt;Para ganhar o pão, lutar pela vida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olhares que se cruzam e se tentam evitar&lt;br /&gt;Música altíssima, dormita-se ou lê-se o jornal&lt;br /&gt;Cada solitário ocupado no seu lugar&lt;br /&gt;Reprimindo emoções que teimam expressar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Havia um grupo de amigos na carruagem&lt;br /&gt;Que conversava alegremente sobre a vida,&lt;br /&gt;Os demais desejando que se calassem&lt;br /&gt;Preferem o silêncio durante a corrida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este individualismo que assola a sociedade&lt;br /&gt;E a solidão que repele ao invés de atrair&lt;br /&gt;Condenam cada um à tristeza e saudade&lt;br /&gt;Quando vemos alguém querido partir!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poema escrito na viagem Azambuja -&gt; Oriente&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Hás-de...</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/03/hs-de.html</link><category>diario</category><category>pessoal</category><category>poemas</category><pubDate>Wed, 12 Mar 2008 22:45:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-1921844430273408923</guid><description>Um dia se,&lt;br /&gt;Continuares a,&lt;br /&gt;Julgares que,&lt;br /&gt;Magoas-me&lt;br /&gt;Hás-de,&lt;br /&gt;Terás que,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sofrer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hás-de sofrer...&lt;br /&gt;Um dia precisarás de mim,&lt;br /&gt;Limitar-me-ei a esquecer&lt;br /&gt;Que um dia te conheci&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É frio, eu sei&lt;br /&gt;Reflecte bem a tua vida&lt;br /&gt;Nos maus momentos que passei&lt;br /&gt;E que ainda assim,&lt;br /&gt;continuei esquecida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho prazer em omitir a minha felicidade&lt;br /&gt;Perante ti, não a mereces conhecer&lt;br /&gt;Para ti não sou nada, apenas saco de pancada&lt;br /&gt;Esmurra-o quanto te apetecer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-me suja e pestilenta&lt;br /&gt;Imundada pela minha falsidade&lt;br /&gt;Dependente da caridade fraudulenta&lt;br /&gt;E do passado sujo que me atormenta&lt;br /&gt;O sonho julgado realidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só quero voar pela minha janela apertada&lt;br /&gt;Fugindo de quem me persegue continuamente&lt;br /&gt;Ver a minha casa ao longe, condenada&lt;br /&gt;Bem-vindo à Loucura, és meu paciente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando estiver bem longe, em segurança&lt;br /&gt;Suplicarás que volte a perdoar&lt;br /&gt;Não terás pingo de misericórdia minha&lt;br /&gt;Esquece que um dia te tentei amar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood:&lt;/span&gt; Rancorosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ouvindo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="114" width="425"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.songza.com/e/listen"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.songza.com/e/listen" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="zName=Cranberries%20-%20Dreams&amp;amp;zId=s3r1-ae9b9723cba0b795567506b1ce1cb47adf393532&amp;amp;zAutostart=false&amp;amp;zType=mp3" height="114" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Akherousia</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/01/akherousia.html</link><category>lyrics</category><category>musica</category><category>pessoal</category><pubDate>Sat, 26 Jan 2008 00:39:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-135623933701948240</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lastfm.pt/music/Draconian"&gt;[Lyrics by Anders Jacobsson of Draconian , 16/05/2003]&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/TXvRJx-Vkw/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="80" width="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Monotype Corsiva;font-size:150%;"  &gt;   &lt;br /&gt;My light slowly fades away     &lt;br /&gt;My hope's gone and went astray     &lt;br /&gt;But I see their dark dream-sails...     &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Take me away... from here!     &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;In the cold of winter I found the other half of me.     &lt;br /&gt;An amethyst broke through the walls of silent solitude.     &lt;br /&gt;But we are lost in a world of despair,     &lt;br /&gt;So we head for the ocean; a destination unknown...     &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Maybe they want me to come on board     &lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm cursed here to stay...     &lt;br /&gt;But maybe they want me to come on board     &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Maybe they'll gather all the lost souls...     &lt;br /&gt;Maybe they've heard our mournful cries...     &lt;br /&gt;And maybe they want us to come on board.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quantas vezes sentimos a nossa luz atenuada... a esperança que alimenta o filamento da vida parece ter-se esbatido...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;Olhamos para o lado, continuamos a ver pessoas "felizes", por mais obscuras que sejam as suas intenções, por mais que se aproveitem de quem é verdadeiro e honesto. São esses que sobrevivem hoje em dia!    &lt;br /&gt;E acabamos por nos envolver nesta onda de corrupção e hipocrisia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;Leva-me daqui. Quero ser alguém, não quero ficar sozinha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;Se estamos perdidos num mundo esgotado de esperança, vamo-nos dirigir para o oceano, para o desconhecido!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;Talvez &lt;strong&gt;eles&lt;/strong&gt; queiram que embarquemos nessa viagem. Ou estaremos condenados a ficar no mesmo sítio?     &lt;br /&gt;Talvez tenham ouvido as nossas preces e acolham as nossa almas perdidas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;Vamos embarcar nesta corrupção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 128);"&gt;Seremos felizes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Witnesses</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/01/witnesses.html</link><category>lyrics</category><category>musica</category><category>pessoal</category><pubDate>Thu, 17 Jan 2008 23:04:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-3215559479536392266</guid><description>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;by &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/aguadeannique"&gt;Agua de Annique&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="80" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/UFtsriJcSJ/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/UFtsriJcSJ/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="80" width="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No change no pleasure no jokes no sex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; No choice no morals no ethics no depth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; No colour no fight no freedom no life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Profound creation, temptation is swept&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I hear knocking on my door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I wonder how it's possible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; That I just sit here in my room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Watching some TV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Thinking of nothing and nothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And I don't know how&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Does anybody have the nerve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; To come to my door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And sell the world of God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; I wonder what's the remedy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; And I can move on with my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; Before you people are through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; With the extinction of the universe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; You save the world from me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I wonder who will be left over...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Testemunhas. Meros espectadores deste circo.&lt;br /&gt;Sem rir ou chorar, sem escolher ou ser escolhido, viver ou morrer?&lt;br /&gt;Lutar?...  e desistes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que diferença faço? Não valho nada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Biliões vivem descansados no quentinho das suas habitações, sem a mínima consciência daquilo que enfrentamos e do pior que enfrentaremos... Não dão graças aos seus supostos deuses pelos momentos bons que passaram... o Homem é por natureza, insatisfeito e ambicioso.&lt;br /&gt;Personalidade que faz o mundo avançar e evoluir, e defeito que tanto trava essa evolução.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Por uns pagam os outros!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sempre assim será. Apenas um espermatozóide vence, não é?&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todos os seres vivos lutam pela sobrevivência, e só há evolução quando se ultrapassam as dificuldades. Chama-se a selecção natural, o aperfeiçoamento da espécie...&lt;br /&gt;O problema, é levar ao extremo esta ideia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não somos animais irracionais, como tal sentimos &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;pena&lt;/span&gt; e sentimento de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ajuda&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Uns mais que outros, é certo, mas é isto que nos distingue. A capacidade de nos predispormos a ajudar o próximo... não são tretas da Bíblia, são sentimentos &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;humanos&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Quando isso acontecer, já cá não estarei!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estarão as nossas descendências! Sofrerão as acções estúpidas e impensadas dos seus antepassados, parece justo? Que é feito do amor pelo próximo? Pelos &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nossos&lt;/span&gt; filhos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parem de ser egoístas. Ajam no &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;vosso&lt;/span&gt; mundo... um pouco mais de amor próprio!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Make a change - &lt;/span&gt;não é um estúpido pregão em inglês.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É tudo o que tens de ser!</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item><item><title>Death Is Our Freedom</title><link>http://pensamentos-sincronizados.blogspot.com/2008/01/death-is-our-freedom.html</link><category>lyrics</category><category>musica</category><category>pessoal</category><pubDate>Thu, 3 Jan 2008 17:53:00 GMT</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9465360.post-2690310993903395699</guid><description>by &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Foreshadowing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Music: A. Pace, F. Sosto / Lyrics: F. Sosto)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="80"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/Ere-y1FDPG/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/Ere-y1FDPG/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="80" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The weakness of times&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We’ll pay for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Distrust of the next&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And fear for death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The poor and the mighty live in the same place that we shared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The good and the evil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The destroyed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The destroyer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Death is our freedom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Makes us equal men,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Regardless of our place and birth,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Regardless of our plans and deals,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She’ll never break her promises.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She decides for us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When the wretches stand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In the wreckage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She makes us more miserable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There’s no compromise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To escape our lies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;They’re running to nowhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We had a feeling, a shelter, and some air to breathe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And exposed to distant clouds, we never saw sunset and dawn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Death is our freedom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Makes us equal men,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Regardless of our place and birth,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Regardless of our plans and deals,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She’ll never break her promises.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Slow decay and rest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As we’re running fast,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And the mighty ones are nothing but the last ones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There’s no compromise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To escape our lies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;They’re running to nowhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Death is our freedom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Death is our freedom…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ora aqui está uma das, ou talvez a maior verdade inquestionável do fenómeno da vida/morte.&lt;br /&gt;Uns têm mais medo dela, evitam-na, benzem-se perante a sua pronúncia ou acham-na "coisa do Diabo".&lt;br /&gt;Existem ainda outros que a abraçam, se preparam constantemente para ela, conseguem ver nela a beleza que outros não vêem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há distinções entre pobres e ricos, valentes e cobardes, belos ou feios, amigo ou inimigo... a todos ela nos leva.&lt;br /&gt;Não interessa a nossa origem, objectivos de vida, por mais nobres que sejam, ela nunca quebrará a sua promessa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quanto mais se corre, mais lentamente nos leva... é o descanso final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É a Mãe-Natureza que decide por nós!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Download do álbum disponível em:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://blondiesharing.blogspot.com/2008/01/foreshadowing-days-of-nothing-2007.html"&gt;http://blondiesharing.blogspot.com/2008/01/foreshadowing-days-of-nothing-2007.html&lt;/a&gt;</description><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><author>noreply@blogger.com (_BlondieGirl_)</author></item></channel></rss>