<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14437244</id><updated>2024-01-31T00:17:28.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default?alt=atom'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Michael Filsecker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10120699724733893790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4624/1306/400/1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14437244.post-112260883449255916</id><published>2005-07-28T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T20:47:14.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Melancolía</title><summary type="text">&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;  No soy la sonrisa que alegra tu mediodía,   sino la mano distraída que se hunde en un bolsillo.   No soy la arena gris que fresca cosquillea entre tus dedos,   sino el polvo distraído de los caminos.   No soy la voz que alerta tus oídos,   sino el murmullo negro de los bosques nocturnos.   No soy la gota de lluvia que resbala por tu cuello tibio   </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/feeds/112260883449255916/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14437244&amp;postID=112260883449255916' title='5 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default/112260883449255916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default/112260883449255916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/2005/07/melancola.html' title='Melancolía'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/blank.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14437244.post-112260685594735798</id><published>2005-07-28T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T16:08:28.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Un sueño</title><summary type="text">   &lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;...De una noche en el 2003. &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;   No es la primera vez que siento que estoy tratando con un viejo conocido durante el sueño. Sí, a medida que transcurrían las imágenes me decía a mi mismo &quot;ah, has vuelto de nuevo&quot;. Naturalmente no fue el mismo sueño en estricto rigor, pero la familiaridad con algunos anteriores era bastante. Entonces ¿Qué era esa </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/feeds/112260685594735798/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14437244&amp;postID=112260685594735798' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default/112260685594735798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default/112260685594735798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/2005/07/un-sueo.html' title='Un sueño'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/blank.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14437244.post-112258472162743965</id><published>2005-07-28T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T16:10:34.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EDUCACIÓN, EMPLEO Y BIENESTAR SOCIAL</title><summary type="text"> &lt;!--[endif]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;     “El sentido de la educación es conservar y transmitir el amor intelectual a lo humano”  (F. Savater)    Si aceptamos que el siglo veinte fue un siglo convulsivo, en que la sociedad experimentó una amarga crisis, y aceptamos que el cambio en el calendario no ha cambiado esta situación, debemos esperar con toda tranquilidad que las instituciones </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/feeds/112258472162743965/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14437244&amp;postID=112258472162743965' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default/112258472162743965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default/112258472162743965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/2005/07/educacin-empleo-y-bienestar-social.html' title='EDUCACIÓN, EMPLEO Y BIENESTAR SOCIAL'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10120699724733893790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14437244.post-112251942845758183</id><published>2005-07-27T19:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T16:08:51.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De las cosas bellas</title><summary type="text">&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;   Camino tranquilo bajo los árboles y respiro profundo el perfumado aroma de una mañana límpida y transparente. Levanto la frente hacia el cielo y gozo del espectáculo azul manchado con jirones blanquecinos, como delicada tela, que se adivinan lejanos, enormes y de una frescura casi tan exquisita como la del rocío sobre la hierba. Emerge, a veces, un </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/feeds/112251942845758183/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14437244&amp;postID=112251942845758183' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default/112251942845758183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default/112251942845758183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/2005/07/de-las-cosas-bellas.html' title='De las cosas bellas'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/blank.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14437244.post-112129843234344027</id><published>2005-07-13T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T16:09:52.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ladies and Gentlemen</title><summary type="text"> This is me. Unshaved, with a little messy haircut, a year younger I think. For me it is quite a deal to write down a few words for all of you, my yet unknown and pacient reader. Maybe it is because I decided to open my own identity, my name, my picture, without haiding me behind a screen and a keyboard. Allthough I love the face-to-face relationships, it is true that one has gotten used to have </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/feeds/112129843234344027/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14437244&amp;postID=112129843234344027' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default/112129843234344027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14437244/posts/default/112129843234344027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://michaelfilsecker.blogspot.com/2005/07/ladies-and-gentlemen.html' title='Ladies and Gentlemen'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10120699724733893790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>