<?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: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-5728123282729694992</id><updated>2011-07-30T13:53:51.681-07:00</updated><category term='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rdEgWA-JLE'/><title type='text'>MEU PEQUENO MUNDO...</title><subtitle type='html'>A SUBJETIVIDADE ESTÁ NA OBJETIVIDADE COM QUE AS COISAS SE DEFINEM.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' 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uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>192</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-9196200679711769462</id><published>2010-10-21T06:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T06:15:55.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E o meu cavalo?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/TMA8_xqU0CI/AAAAAAAAA70/CK8PxoCBP0s/s1600/olhar_cavalo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530487408771256354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 251px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/TMA8_xqU0CI/AAAAAAAAA70/CK8PxoCBP0s/s320/olhar_cavalo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;CADA DIFICULDADE É COMO UM OBSTÁCULO NUMA CORRIDA;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;E QUANDO VOCÊ CAVALGA EM DIREÇÃO A ELE,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;SE ATIRAR O SEU CORAÇÃO SOBRE ELE,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O CAVALO VAI ACOMPANHÁ-LO TAMBÉM&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-9196200679711769462?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/9196200679711769462/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=9196200679711769462' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/9196200679711769462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/9196200679711769462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2010/10/e-o-meu-cavalo.html' title='E o meu cavalo?'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/TMA8_xqU0CI/AAAAAAAAA70/CK8PxoCBP0s/s72-c/olhar_cavalo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-2186586590888930266</id><published>2010-10-17T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T12:58:35.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nós...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/TLtVNDvaZMI/AAAAAAAAA7s/Uf6n5kjaYl4/s1600/GATOS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529106650358244546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/TLtVNDvaZMI/AAAAAAAAA7s/Uf6n5kjaYl4/s320/GATOS.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Gosto do seu sorriso &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Desse jeito dengoso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Gosto quando mia pra mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;De te ter perto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Mesmo que em silêncio me olhando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Ou só ao me lado dormindo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Da nossa cumplicidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Dos nossos momentos juntinhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E das brincadeiras também&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;De que me peças colo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E como me olha por fim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Gosto de te ter pra mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-2186586590888930266?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/2186586590888930266/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=2186586590888930266' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2186586590888930266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2186586590888930266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2010/10/nos.html' title='Nós...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/TLtVNDvaZMI/AAAAAAAAA7s/Uf6n5kjaYl4/s72-c/GATOS.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5950085912810946967</id><published>2010-08-29T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T16:27:38.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Compartilhar...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/THrsFuJPZhI/AAAAAAAAA7c/TI5lz52KsC4/s1600/ghj.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510976677071513106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/THrsFuJPZhI/AAAAAAAAA7c/TI5lz52KsC4/s320/ghj.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu sei que não sei bem como se faz para chegar lá.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tenho mais do que certeza que nem sei bem onde quero que lá seja.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se medir demais as minhas palavras, viro uma planta morta no vaso bonito.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Acho que prefiro ser uma planta viva no vaso quebrado.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quem sabe assim?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vou aos poucos recolhendo os caquinhos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Afungentando a dor.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cria-se um mosaico.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um retrato de mim mesma.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Frágil, novo...mas concreto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-5950085912810946967?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5950085912810946967/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5950085912810946967' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5950085912810946967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5950085912810946967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2010/08/compartilhar.html' title='Compartilhar...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/THrsFuJPZhI/AAAAAAAAA7c/TI5lz52KsC4/s72-c/ghj.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6775477749559564592</id><published>2010-08-10T17:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T17:42:05.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/TGHxYefixHI/AAAAAAAAA7U/97ymVN_QwsI/s1600/v%C3%A1rias-findi+e+crian%C3%A7as+058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503945622427976818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/TGHxYefixHI/AAAAAAAAA7U/97ymVN_QwsI/s320/v%C3%A1rias-findi+e+crian%C3%A7as+058.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;"Como é difícil quando a gente quer estar junto de alguém, e não poder...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;mesmo essa pessoa estando a cinco minutos da tua casa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;O toque, o cheiro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;aquele perfume que a gente conhece no pescoço, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;a mão quente que dá segurança, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;e ao mesmo tempo medo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;amar não é dizer Eu te amo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;Amar é persistência, dedicação e coragem."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;J.B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6775477749559564592?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6775477749559564592/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6775477749559564592' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6775477749559564592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6775477749559564592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2010/08/como-e-dificil-quando-gente-quer-estar.html' title=''/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/TGHxYefixHI/AAAAAAAAA7U/97ymVN_QwsI/s72-c/v%C3%A1rias-findi+e+crian%C3%A7as+058.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-4972088443259399748</id><published>2010-05-14T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T20:21:57.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Onde estão as minhas asas?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S-4TMEOaJCI/AAAAAAAAA60/zQgmJz7hVXA/s1600/v%C3%A1rias-findi+e+crian%C3%A7as+054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471331695315264546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S-4TMEOaJCI/AAAAAAAAA60/zQgmJz7hVXA/s320/v%C3%A1rias-findi+e+crian%C3%A7as+054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;...eu não preciso me preocupar com vírgula, acento,ponto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;existe um sentido nisso tudo, eu acredito nisso por isso voltei a escrever... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;você vai para um lugar que eu nem sei como se chama. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;tem medo de me machucar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;eu não teria!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;não somos espelhos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Então o que é diferente assusta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;perdi tanto do meu suor nessas esquinas, tempo de guerra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;A vida quer ser serena, fonte de prazer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;me ensina a voar com você!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;falta somente isso para consumir nesse fogo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;parece por acaso, aparece que eu preciso te dizer o quanto eu te adoro.&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-4972088443259399748?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/4972088443259399748/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=4972088443259399748' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4972088443259399748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4972088443259399748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2010/05/onde-estao-as-minhas-asas.html' title='Onde estão as minhas asas?'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S-4TMEOaJCI/AAAAAAAAA60/zQgmJz7hVXA/s72-c/v%C3%A1rias-findi+e+crian%C3%A7as+054.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1528130449835437051</id><published>2010-03-23T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T20:10:19.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EU SOU...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S6l2SXAWulI/AAAAAAAAA6o/9JtNOI30LeE/s1600-h/v%C3%A1rias-findi+e+crian%C3%A7as+062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452018881693923922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S6l2SXAWulI/AAAAAAAAA6o/9JtNOI30LeE/s320/v%C3%A1rias-findi+e+crian%C3%A7as+062.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Eu sou feito de Sonhos interrompidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;detalhes despercebidos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Sou feita de Choros sem ter razão &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;pessoas no coração &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;atos por impulsão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Sinto falta deLugares que não conheci&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;experiências que não vivi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;momentos que já esqueci&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Eu sou Amor e carinho constante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;distraída até o bastante &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;não paro por instante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Já Tive noites mal dormidas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;perdi pessoas muito queridas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;cumpri coisas não-prometidas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Muitas vezes eu Desisti sem mesmo tentar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;pensei em fugir, para não enfrentar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;sorri para não chorar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Eu sinto pelas Coisas que não mudei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;amizades que não cultivei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;aqueles que eu julguei &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;coisas que eu falei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Tenho saudade De pessoas que fui conhecendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;lembranças que fui esquecend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;oamigos que acabei perdendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mas continuo vivendo e aprendendo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-1528130449835437051?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1528130449835437051/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1528130449835437051' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1528130449835437051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1528130449835437051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2010/03/eu-sou.html' title='EU SOU...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S6l2SXAWulI/AAAAAAAAA6o/9JtNOI30LeE/s72-c/v%C3%A1rias-findi+e+crian%C3%A7as+062.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-187009757024536689</id><published>2010-02-25T17:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T17:27:11.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Onde eu vou ficar???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S4cirXRBarI/AAAAAAAAA6g/8O8nF55Sbnc/s1600-h/DSC03094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442356803075664562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S4cirXRBarI/AAAAAAAAA6g/8O8nF55Sbnc/s320/DSC03094.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S4chmQLJXeI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/V-Bwv5dMMOM/s1600-h/DSC03109.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;qual é o seu objetivo? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Deixe a tristeza chegar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Deixe a tristeza passar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Quando você chegar lembre-se que eu gosto do seu gosto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;mas não deixe o tempo apagar isto,então não demore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;por nós!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;somos como selvagens famintos por essa vida cheia de aventurasp,romessas malucas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;eu não quero a sua sensatez,quero a sua febre!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;e esses olhos pegando fogo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;paixão instantânea que rompe o silêncio!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;castigando o seu orgulho talvez seja uma mentira contada pela verdade &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;e nesse instante nós vamos desejar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;mas não confunda!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;o que é passageiro vem do leste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;e quando tudo estiver consumado o céu irá nos dizer que mais um dia nascem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;sorrisos circulares lá fora.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-187009757024536689?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/187009757024536689/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=187009757024536689' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/187009757024536689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/187009757024536689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2010/02/onde-eu-vou-ficar.html' title='Onde eu vou ficar???'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S4cirXRBarI/AAAAAAAAA6g/8O8nF55Sbnc/s72-c/DSC03094.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6298277402149092930</id><published>2010-02-01T05:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T05:27:02.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sempre livre...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S2bWAS0MnAI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/ZuxH78k7hM4/s1600-h/DSC03109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433265301008194562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S2bWAS0MnAI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/ZuxH78k7hM4/s320/DSC03109.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;Até onde se estendiam?... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;E os boatos seriam verdade?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;Já podia antever a hora de amar, seria gentil, carinhosa, mas ainda assim furiosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;E nos perderíamos nesta festa por horas a fio, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;esquecendo do mundo lá fora, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;sem lembrar do que mais existia, além dos nossos corpos ali a se desfrutar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;Diferenças de idade, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;experiências, não importariam... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;Tudo o que precisávamos era deste desejo, deste gostar, cuidar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;O resto de alguma forma havia de se resolver.&lt;br /&gt;você sabe, desabamos a ponte para que aprendessemos a nadar&lt;br /&gt;não, não...&lt;br /&gt;nenhuma margem&lt;br /&gt;nem a sua nem a minha&lt;br /&gt;é que correnteza é alguma coisa que aconteceu quando a gente se encontrou...&lt;br /&gt;esse rio vai ter que ser nosso .&lt;br /&gt;e vai pra algum outro lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS:És meu oposto,mas se por amor confundes e libertas o caos de tudo e de todos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;por amor eu tento tocar mais fundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;procurando um vôo que não conseguiria jamais num amor menor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6298277402149092930?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6298277402149092930/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6298277402149092930' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6298277402149092930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6298277402149092930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2010/02/sempre-livre.html' title='Sempre livre...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/S2bWAS0MnAI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/ZuxH78k7hM4/s72-c/DSC03109.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6372104445863971865</id><published>2009-12-26T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T16:24:16.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudades...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SzapJvvqzfI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/i_bzHGnPfkk/s1600-h/OgAAAJV8X62JVMMhooMAoR_sPuqzjDLj2DnxmA_sZFRsDifHYt6TSpxsq267Cxz_MYm2GTqNJL8L8HMAgmq-u_ZvIBEAm1T1UM_13ANbbALqCZqz_eaOf-i8HQIJ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419705186487291378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SzapJvvqzfI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/i_bzHGnPfkk/s320/OgAAAJV8X62JVMMhooMAoR_sPuqzjDLj2DnxmA_sZFRsDifHYt6TSpxsq267Cxz_MYm2GTqNJL8L8HMAgmq-u_ZvIBEAm1T1UM_13ANbbALqCZqz_eaOf-i8HQIJ.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Porque eu sei que é amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Eu não peço nada em troca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Porque eu sei que é amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Eu não peço nenhuma prova&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Mesmo que você não esteja aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O amor está aqui Agora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Mesmo que você tenha que partir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O amor não há de ir Embora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Eu sei que é pra sempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Enquanto durar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;E eu peço somente &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O que eu puder dar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Porque eu sei que é amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Sei que cada palavra importa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Porque eu sei que é amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Sei que só há uma resposta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Mesmo sem porquê eu te trago aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O amor está aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Comigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Mesmo sem porquê eu te levo assim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O amor está em mim Mais vivo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Eu sei que é pra sempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Enquanto durar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;E eu peço somente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O que eu puder dar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Porque eu sei que é amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;(titãs)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6372104445863971865?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6372104445863971865/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6372104445863971865' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6372104445863971865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6372104445863971865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/12/saudades.html' title='Saudades...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SzapJvvqzfI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/i_bzHGnPfkk/s72-c/OgAAAJV8X62JVMMhooMAoR_sPuqzjDLj2DnxmA_sZFRsDifHYt6TSpxsq267Cxz_MYm2GTqNJL8L8HMAgmq-u_ZvIBEAm1T1UM_13ANbbALqCZqz_eaOf-i8HQIJ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-8982438689710542287</id><published>2009-12-08T15:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T15:49:36.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quando a voz cala...A alma muda, grita!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sx7l96KVweI/AAAAAAAAA5E/OGvx_d4IJPI/s1600-h/sedrtfgy.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413016653893321186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sx7l96KVweI/AAAAAAAAA5E/OGvx_d4IJPI/s320/sedrtfgy.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Cadê a minha bôia?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;o mar é fundo de mais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;meus pés não alcançam a terra firme!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;A agua é fria...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;e a correnteza me leva pra longe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;eu já aprendi a nadar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;mas não consigo me mover...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;vou boiar um pouco mais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-8982438689710542287?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/8982438689710542287/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=8982438689710542287' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8982438689710542287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8982438689710542287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/12/quando-voz-calaa-alma-muda-grita.html' title='Quando a voz cala...A alma muda, grita!!!'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sx7l96KVweI/AAAAAAAAA5E/OGvx_d4IJPI/s72-c/sedrtfgy.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-2592025438347828866</id><published>2009-12-07T14:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T15:17:32.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'>E no final, é vc, contra vc mesma!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sx2Mz-yZX8I/AAAAAAAAA48/4OC5XxKOQHE/s1600-h/BXK32456_por-do-sol-buzios800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412637151824797634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sx2Mz-yZX8I/AAAAAAAAA48/4OC5XxKOQHE/s320/BXK32456_por-do-sol-buzios800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Há algum tempo, luto pra acreditar em amores verdadeiros...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Mesmo comreceios, de tantas tentativas frustadas, mas por isso, não significativas, sempre acreditei que em algum momento eu me sentiria viva novamente, sem medo, sem receio, sem querer entender como as coisas se dão, apenas vive-las...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Ainda não descobri onde eu erro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Em que parte a força que tenho nos braços e acreditar que posso levantar o mundo no colo vai parar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Alguem me bateu no ombro e disse: Você não pode levar o mundo, quando o mundo não quer o teu colo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Nem só de mar e amor vive o poeta, nem todas as tristezas pertencem aos fragilizados...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Não dá pra guardar mágoas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Minha mãe disse que as coisas ruins a gente esquece. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Apenas as boas ficam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Mas minha mãe não mente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Alivia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;E faz assim desde que sou menina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Para eu não desistir de sobreviver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Maquiando-me para não desmaiar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Para eu pensar que nasci pra vencer,pra ganhar, pra amar,pra ser tão feliz quanto os outros parecem ser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Não é que eu seja infeliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Não. Não é isso.Absolutamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Sei que todo mundo passa na vida por momentos difíceis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;E que não dá para avaliar o quanto o outro sofreu, se foi mais ou menos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Mas observar o sofrimento alheio nunca me assegurou tranqüilidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Sei também que nessas fases a gente aprende algumas coisas sobre o nosso próprio comportamento,que amadurecemos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;E que depois da tempestade,vem à chuva fina, o chuvisco, a ventania, o céu nublado e só então o esperado sol aparece.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Me cabe esperar o sol nascer novamente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Sou impotente pra faze-lo ficar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;esse não é mais um texto triste...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;é um momento de tristeza, que só existe, porque um dia foi muito feliz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;e isso é o que fica...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-2592025438347828866?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/2592025438347828866/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=2592025438347828866' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2592025438347828866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2592025438347828866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/12/e-no-final-e-vc-contra-vc-mesma.html' title='E no final, é vc, contra vc mesma!'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sx2Mz-yZX8I/AAAAAAAAA48/4OC5XxKOQHE/s72-c/BXK32456_por-do-sol-buzios800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-8310935562652326690</id><published>2009-12-07T08:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T09:05:28.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Se esquecer 1 amor fosse facil o coraçao caminharia em direçao contrária aos pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;Paixoes sao muitas vezes levianas&lt;br /&gt;Quando este deixa de ser compatilhado Simplesmente vamos em silencio vivendo...&lt;br /&gt;Lembranças sao eternas...&lt;br /&gt;a saudade a cicatrizaçao do vazio que lhe avisa que a marca deixada dificilmente se apagara&lt;br /&gt;Uma marca do que sera insubstituivel.&lt;br /&gt;Amarte nao foi só um faz d conta&lt;br /&gt;onde sonhos se fundiram para se tornar um.&lt;br /&gt; Foi preencher minha vida,dominar meus medos,acordar sem que pra isso eu estivesse sonhando&lt;br /&gt;Foi querer meu melhor para dar-te em totalidade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-8310935562652326690?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/8310935562652326690/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=8310935562652326690' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8310935562652326690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8310935562652326690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/12/se-esquecer-1-amor-fosse-facil-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-459519677602784704</id><published>2009-11-10T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T16:32:06.327-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A concha!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvoFqqZ-NRI/AAAAAAAAA40/JJaGe7HF1-M/s1600-h/BXK32456_por-do-sol-buzios800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402636933480199442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvoFqqZ-NRI/AAAAAAAAA40/JJaGe7HF1-M/s320/BXK32456_por-do-sol-buzios800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Cada dia mais me convenço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Não se manda no músculo coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Certo, muitas ilusões...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;mas eu me recuso a descrer absolutamente de tudo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;eu faço força para manter algumas esperanças acesas, como velas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Surpreenda -me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Surpreendeu-me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Só que a câmera não estava ligada e ninguém gritou ação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O coração se enche, aperta o peito...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Mãos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;que medo dá...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Abri o livro que falava daquele filme do Woody.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Dizia que se apaixonar seria uma nova chance pra gente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Pra mostrar algo diferente nosso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;consertar os erros,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;ser algo melhor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Melhor falar pouco do coração e deixar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Não te assusta (Relaxa, barquinho na correnteza )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;E eu não me assusto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Aos caminhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Eu entrego o meu pesar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;De um dia poder chegar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;No tempo certo pra se amar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Como o encontro das águas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Dispostas que dessa união...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Passem por ali muitos barcos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Muitos ventos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;E sigam juntas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;pra onde forem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;seram partes inteiras, da imensidão do mar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: Obrigada!por tudo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-459519677602784704?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/459519677602784704/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=459519677602784704' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/459519677602784704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/459519677602784704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/11/concha.html' title='A concha!'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvoFqqZ-NRI/AAAAAAAAA40/JJaGe7HF1-M/s72-c/BXK32456_por-do-sol-buzios800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-229520906852157943</id><published>2009-11-09T10:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T10:45:47.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Em segundos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvhjMKkuXPI/AAAAAAAAA4s/CAORYRp4cIw/s1600-h/20070415165534_naufrago800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402176813678877938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 171px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvhjMKkuXPI/AAAAAAAAA4s/CAORYRp4cIw/s320/20070415165534_naufrago800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Estranho pensar no tempo, como a velocidade de fatos e momentos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Um segundo pode significar muito...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Sua vida pode mudar em segundos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Você constrói um objetivo, traça uma meta, e em segundos você ñ tem mais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Algo aconteceu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Alguem aconteceu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Você aconteceu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;E nesse processo todo, o tempo passou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;E modificou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Você se modifica!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Muda suas crenças...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Seus objetivos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;recostrói...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;recicla suas metas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;E por ironia do destino...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;vejam só...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;o Tempo passou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;E o que vc tinha, ñ tem mais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Em segundos se foi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;E mais uma vez vc está perdida!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Mas o tempo ñ parou pra vc respirar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Absorver essa troca radical...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;então vc procura em antigos planos um refugio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Buscando encontrar aquilo que vc nem sabe mais o que é...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Mas o tempo ñ para!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;É...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;As vezes a vida tenta me ensinar, o que já sei...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Mas nunca aprendo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Uma imagem só pode ser descrita, com o que vc vê!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Mas por segundos eu ñ enxergo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;e o tempo passa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Então vou tateando...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;procurando na escuridão algo que me de apoio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Que me de a mão e me diga pra ñ ter medo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Que me acalme!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;E que me diga que o tempo ainda não acabou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: O mar, pode te levar pra longe, ou te trazer para areia...vai depender pra onde&lt;/span&gt; o vento soprar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-229520906852157943?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/229520906852157943/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=229520906852157943' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/229520906852157943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/229520906852157943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/11/em-segundos.html' title='Em segundos...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvhjMKkuXPI/AAAAAAAAA4s/CAORYRp4cIw/s72-c/20070415165534_naufrago800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-3158119508143164640</id><published>2009-11-08T16:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T17:10:11.765-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Apenas estar...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvdgqyuX4vI/AAAAAAAAA4k/F0NubKJT9F8/s1600-h/rj+1178.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401892566341247730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvdgqyuX4vI/AAAAAAAAA4k/F0NubKJT9F8/s320/rj+1178.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Outra vez escuto seu nome numa linda melodia que me embala no entardecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Outra vez preciso ouvir muito, muito mais vezes a canção dos pássaros &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;que me lembra você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Preciso alimentar-me de você. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;De sua voz, do seu cheiro, da sua alma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Dos batimentos do coração e das brincadeiras algres.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Traga as minhas estrelas perdidas e venha me acordar, me acolhe!&lt;br /&gt;Pouco importa aonde pretendes chegar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;mas espero ansiosamente a próxima noite despertar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&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/5728123282729694992-3158119508143164640?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/3158119508143164640/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=3158119508143164640' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/3158119508143164640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/3158119508143164640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/11/apenas-estar.html' title='Apenas estar...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvdgqyuX4vI/AAAAAAAAA4k/F0NubKJT9F8/s72-c/rj+1178.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6403178005614013678</id><published>2009-11-03T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T13:11:11.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O que nos une???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvCX9VfDVpI/AAAAAAAAA4c/TgEIcLk4irE/s1600-h/ghhjk.bmp"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399983033212425874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 235px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvCX9VfDVpI/AAAAAAAAA4c/TgEIcLk4irE/s320/ghhjk.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvCXoBpHRCI/AAAAAAAAA4U/n5_6Ox89Fqc/s1600-h/Imagem_112.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7431/2353/1600/so.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Ao acordar, ninguém ao meu lado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Percebi que agarrava com força o travesseiro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Lembranças de um dia anterior? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Nem todas as manhãs são iguais. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Sem vontade de  levantar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Capaz de ficar ali estática, por horas, dias, semanas ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;tempo suficiente para esquecer o que ocorre lá fora e ficar ali, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;só com as lembranças e sonhos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;A casa já acordou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Passos, vozes,movimento... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Será que a hora de levantar realmente chegou? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Será a hora de acordar? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Respirar e suspirar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Sem saber se devo ficar ou sair... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;A luz do sol já entra no quarto, e permanecem vivas as lembranças.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;O desejo domina, vontade de enxergar, de somente ouvir aquela voz ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;ali ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;baixinho ao meu ouvido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Seus braços sobre o meu corpo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;e as respirações que se tornara única. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Acordei sem vontade de acordar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Senti-me só pela saudade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;PS:Muitas vezes bloqueamos nossos sentimentos com medo de amar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;Quantas vezes sentimos, e não conseguimos expressar? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;Quantas vezes amamos, sem pronunciar uma única palavra? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;Quantas vezes não aproveitamos o momento? ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;O presente me proporciona grandes, médios e pequeninos momentos.&lt;br /&gt;Mas é o que é Valioso, mesmo não sabendo por quê.&lt;br /&gt;A dor é apenas a diferença que há entre o que eu quero que seja e o que realmente é.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&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/5728123282729694992-6403178005614013678?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6403178005614013678/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6403178005614013678' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6403178005614013678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6403178005614013678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/11/o-que-nos-une.html' title='O que nos une???'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SvCX9VfDVpI/AAAAAAAAA4c/TgEIcLk4irE/s72-c/ghhjk.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6856554794965604077</id><published>2009-10-26T18:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T19:02:51.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ausencia...Vem comigo?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SuZTmNVg4xI/AAAAAAAAA4M/oeFlk798RSg/s1600-h/tyg.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397093119330149138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SuZTmNVg4xI/AAAAAAAAA4M/oeFlk798RSg/s320/tyg.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Depois de cada momento feliz que tive com você, temia sua ausência. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Tinha a sensação de que tudo que existia era para nós...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Não era como havia sonhado e fantasiado durante anos... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;era diferente, uma situação nova, um mundo cheio de nuances com as quais não sabia lhe dar.&lt;br /&gt;Eu era de certa forma uma menina prodígio nessa coisa de amar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;entregue totalmente ao acaso, sem saber no que cada escolha futura me traria, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;me afoguei e me perdi como turista, vi montanhas, lagos cristalinos, vi lava, lama &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e tudo que a crosta terrestre poderia e gostaria de mostrar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Decifrei algumas das coisas que jamais pensei que conseguiria, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;não sei se desconstrui ou inventei conceitos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;só sei que choveu em cima de cada palavra de carinho que você me deu, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;as guardei em gavetas, em pastas virtuais, na pele e por cada poro do meu corpo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Deveria me envergonhar por isso. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Tão forte por ser tão fraca, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;era imoral, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;mas eu fiquei ali plantada na história de amor mais linda e incerta que já vivi, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;se bem que chego a me questionar da beleza... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ela vem acompanhada de seguidas desventuras, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Nem sempre foi desventura, teve emoção, teve romance, capítulos intensos, potencial...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sempre temi sua ausência. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Não, não gostaria de escrever sobre um possível final, porque é doloroso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Talvez um novo começo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Enfim, o que passou não tem como mudar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;hoje o que me importa é só o que existe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;de resto, deixo ao acaso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;E vivo hoje, amanhã ainda está muito longe...&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/5728123282729694992-6856554794965604077?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6856554794965604077/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6856554794965604077' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6856554794965604077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6856554794965604077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/10/bons-sonhosobrigada.html' title='Ausencia...Vem comigo?'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SuZTmNVg4xI/AAAAAAAAA4M/oeFlk798RSg/s72-c/tyg.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5897369791870943875</id><published>2009-10-19T09:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T09:58:23.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/StyaFGzijYI/AAAAAAAAA4E/SbuRQXhIpDs/s1600-h/alone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394355866199821698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/StyaFGzijYI/AAAAAAAAA4E/SbuRQXhIpDs/s320/alone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Encontrei-me perdida, assustada, sozinha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Soltando a liberdade num infinito desconhecido entreguei a alma ás incertezas que me seguiam... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;E deixei-me guiar em passos inseguros, na direcção do abismo.&lt;br /&gt;Numa atração sentida, fiz um julgamento interno, deixando-me guiar pela ilusão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Com a certeza contraditória daquilo que senti, ao imaginar que o abismo seria a conquista da liberdade, onde poderia voar pelos sentimentos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Desejando para mim mesma, a libertação de mim, fiz dos meus passos um ritmo acelerado...&lt;br /&gt;Queria lá chegar, cair no oculto e agarrar o espaço vazio, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;na tentativa de preencher o meu próprio sentir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Senti-me perdida, confusa... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Na imensidão da liberdade, quis-me encontrar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Queria a conquista do abismo, mas a crueldade do desconhecido, transmitia-me um medo sufocante, paralizante da coragem que me fazia caminhar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;na direção do destino que julgava tão perto de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Procurei no caminho a segurança, tentando não dar nenhum passo em falso, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;que provocasse a queda da minha decisão... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Segui em frente... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Á procura de mim, tentei-me encontrar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Sem conseguir dominar os sentidos, deixei que lágrimas soltas me alertassem para o objetivo da minha caminhada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Lutando contra a minha própria vontade... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Devagar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Segui em frente.&lt;br /&gt;Embriagada pelo cansaço, deixei que o espirito numa luta desigual, fizesse prisioneiro o meu corpo... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;e juntos caíssem no abismo que procurava. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Rendida, julguei alcançar o desejado encontro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O encontro de mim mesma... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Vencendo os meus medos, fechei os olhos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;E deixei uma paz invadir-me de certezas, desenhadas pelo oculto... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Fazendo-me acreditar que a conquista do abismo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;não é de todo o encontro do que procuro, e que jamais me encontrarei... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Sentindo-me vaguear pelos mistérios do infinito, agarro-me á esperança que alguém me possa encontrar perdida dentro de mim ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Na hora certa, pra ambos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Sem que o passado interfira, que o presente seja inconstante e que o futuro, nos espere lá na frente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-5897369791870943875?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5897369791870943875/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5897369791870943875' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5897369791870943875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5897369791870943875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/10/encontrei-me-perdida-assustada-sozinha.html' title=''/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/StyaFGzijYI/AAAAAAAAA4E/SbuRQXhIpDs/s72-c/alone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1684473899255889586</id><published>2009-10-15T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T14:09:08.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O que te alimenta?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/StePXdiu93I/AAAAAAAAA38/XVjqQGnrlM0/s1600-h/rj+1202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392936712029534066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/StePXdiu93I/AAAAAAAAA38/XVjqQGnrlM0/s320/rj+1202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O que te consome?&lt;br /&gt;O que você consome?&lt;br /&gt;Do que tem fome?&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho de saber o porquê.&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho ganas de viver de um que.&lt;br /&gt;O Porquê? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Não sei de que.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez um que de "quero mais".&lt;br /&gt;Um toque de vou atrás.&lt;br /&gt;De que?&lt;br /&gt;Que coisa é essa que intriga.&lt;br /&gt;Querendo ou não.&lt;br /&gt;Vai que seja essa a questão.&lt;br /&gt;Querer ou não querer?&lt;br /&gt;Que te faz questionar com mais veemência?&lt;br /&gt;Que te faz quente com mais frequência?&lt;br /&gt;Que tanta pergunta!&lt;br /&gt;Foi sem querer querendo...&lt;br /&gt;Que seja... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Eu parto do princípio que a parte é menor que o todo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mas toda vez que que se fala na parte, tudo faz um sentido total.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-1684473899255889586?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1684473899255889586/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1684473899255889586' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1684473899255889586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1684473899255889586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/10/o-que-te-alimenta.html' title='O que te alimenta?'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/StePXdiu93I/AAAAAAAAA38/XVjqQGnrlM0/s72-c/rj+1202.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5957719905665047807</id><published>2009-10-12T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T19:24:37.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudades do que não existiu...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/StPkHwptkmI/AAAAAAAAA30/oBvw6LAOmWk/s1600-h/justmorethanacandlebyemoleinap2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391904000862687842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/StPkHwptkmI/AAAAAAAAA30/oBvw6LAOmWk/s320/justmorethanacandlebyemoleinap2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;No silêncio uma inquietude, uma alteridade disfarçada...&lt;br /&gt;Inquilina de todos os riscos...&lt;br /&gt;O parto ocorre.&lt;br /&gt;Parto-me.&lt;br /&gt;Aborto certas convicções.&lt;br /&gt;Exponho cicatrizes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;e acordo os meus, com muito mais cuidado.&lt;br /&gt;Muito mais atenção!&lt;br /&gt;Todo voto que devo partir...&lt;br /&gt;Não deixar escoar a dor!&lt;br /&gt;Nunca deixar de ouvir...&lt;br /&gt;com outros olhos! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Há coisas pessoais mas tão pessoais que por serem especiais não se dizem ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;talvez se escrevam, mas raramente se ouvem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ama-se.&lt;br /&gt;No meu mundo eu ponho quem eu quero, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;tiro quem eu acho que devo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;e sonho com o meu desejo, daquilo que eu não sei se um dia eu terei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS:Todo sopro que apaga uma chama...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pode reacender o que for pra ficar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-5957719905665047807?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5957719905665047807/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5957719905665047807' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5957719905665047807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5957719905665047807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/10/saudades-do-que-nao-existiu.html' title='Saudades do que não existiu...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/StPkHwptkmI/AAAAAAAAA30/oBvw6LAOmWk/s72-c/justmorethanacandlebyemoleinap2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1831626925787183120</id><published>2009-09-29T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T15:40:45.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonho e a vida...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SsKMOoHZByI/AAAAAAAAA3s/4W6Y7xjhnx8/s1600-h/Devaneio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387022287203010338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 202px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SsKMOoHZByI/AAAAAAAAA3s/4W6Y7xjhnx8/s320/Devaneio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Uma hora a gente joga, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;outra hora é a vez da vida jogar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;É assim sempre... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Mas, às vezes, a gente quer forçar a barra da vida, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;impor a ela nosso desejo, enquadrá-la à nossa pressa, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;determinar o seu tempo, ditar sozinho a ordem das cenas do grande roteiro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Acontece que a vida também é rio, é mar; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;está sujeita às correntezas, às luas, às tempestades, aos sóis, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;aos desígnios do vento e nos põe diante da sua verdade incontestável: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Ela flui...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;E nos cabe respeitar esta fluência....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS:Às vezes acho que já sofri bastante e que daqui pra frente vai ser melhor, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;vou me sentir aliviada... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;mas dai eu me lembro que o pior ainda vai vir e a saudade vai ser muito grande...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-1831626925787183120?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1831626925787183120/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1831626925787183120' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1831626925787183120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1831626925787183120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/09/sonho-e-vida.html' title='Sonho e a vida...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SsKMOoHZByI/AAAAAAAAA3s/4W6Y7xjhnx8/s72-c/Devaneio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-7736012163935453899</id><published>2009-09-23T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T09:27:07.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Caixas de mudança...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrpLY7TvmFI/AAAAAAAAA3k/fMczvrKm9TA/s1600-h/caixas2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384699196084295762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrpLY7TvmFI/AAAAAAAAA3k/fMczvrKm9TA/s320/caixas2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Forçaria meus dentes ao rangir calada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;da noite que não pôde ser de núpcias, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;mas que com toda a falta de farsa e com toda a magia guardada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;debaixo do travesseiro se desfez porque? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Por que precisa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Algo se move...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;algo se acomoda e &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;algo se desfaz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Ai de mim! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Diziam-me as bruxas espancadas na rede da monotonia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Gemiam quase que sexualmente ao lembrar de cada abraço perdido antes do anoitecer....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Sussurravam e diziam umas para as outras: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;-Agora é noite, pode largar a respiração..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;E era assim: o vento voltava a assoviar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;as portas abriam fazendo seus barulhos suspeitos e bem decorados de frases sombrias...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;e os dentes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Ah! Os dentes com aquele rangido....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Pedi perdão ao presépio e ninguém me respondeu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Resolvi calar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Deixei meus pecados por aí...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;e continuei a contar Era uma vez...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Foi-se os dias...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;e mais devagar as horas a marcar pedaços de tempo no sol do meio-dia &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;que virava quase a tardinha do mate quente na boca....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;o gosto do não escovar os dentes... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;e o apelo pela roupa suja no chão...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;pude ouvir mais uma vez o teu barulho...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;O mar já se colocou de pé.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;As veias da cabeça já se salientaram azuis...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;É fácil desembrulhas as caixas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;o difícil é carregá-las.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Nós sabemos disso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: A intensidade dos ventos se mede com a vontadede ficar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-7736012163935453899?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/7736012163935453899/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=7736012163935453899' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7736012163935453899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7736012163935453899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/09/caixas-de-mudanca.html' title='Caixas de mudança...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrpLY7TvmFI/AAAAAAAAA3k/fMczvrKm9TA/s72-c/caixas2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5317316546726006075</id><published>2009-09-21T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T11:08:53.011-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu pequeno mundo em fragmentos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrfAfvSYc0I/AAAAAAAAA3c/WvmSqkji5R8/s1600-h/ty.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383983531046761282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrfAfvSYc0I/AAAAAAAAA3c/WvmSqkji5R8/s320/ty.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Tudo certo, existe sim uma linha de calmaria nessa coisa toda de se deixar levar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Parece dificil né?! Essa coisa de viver cada segundo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;se doar, cair de cabeça, fazer o que se tem vontade, seja por prazer, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;por vicio ou por plena burrice (no caso do amor).&lt;br /&gt;Conseguir se deixar levar é mesmo complicado, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;talvez seja o tipo de coisa que leve tempo para alguns e a vida toda para outros, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;sério, tem gente que simplesmente não consegue, se &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;embola todo, começa a se coçar, manda logo todo mundo tomar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;suco de laranja e simplesmente vive na mesmice do final de semana sem emoção, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;se contenta em apenas dar banho no cachorro, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Não que eu seja doutora em emoções e aventuras, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;mas consigo me esquivar um pouco do diz que me disse do cotidiano. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Caminhei pela cidade um dia desses e me senti tão feliz, sei lá, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;coisa simples, mas pensei: poxa, vou prestar mais atenção nas pessoas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;na rua, nos sinais que a cidade vai me mandando, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;vou transformar o meu olhar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;antes de começar achar que era uma idéia idiota e muito melosa... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;a chuva começou a cair, uma moça se aproximou e dividiu a sombrinha dela comigo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;andamos um quarteirão juntas, a moça me falou do marido, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;da separação, dos filhos dela e do tempo chuvoso. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Falamos tchau como se fossemos nos ver no outro dia.&lt;br /&gt;Aí eu tive a certeza que coisas estranhas, pequenas e boas acontecem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Se tu esta bem e acredita em alguma fagulha de altruísmo nesse mundo sujo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;tu fica assim, com uma cara receptivél, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;atrai sombrinhas, atrai alguma coisa como água potavél &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ou alguém dizendo loucamente que sente falta do teu beijo (essa última já é outra situação).&lt;br /&gt;Estou aqui, insana, estou pronta para lutar contra o não-sentimento, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Cai de cabeça mesmo, faz a merda da pipoca de panela aberta. (escrevi palavrão , dizem que isso é falta de vocabulário, mas nesse caso não é, apenas quero acreditar nisso tudo e querer chocar o professor Pasquali).&lt;br /&gt;Então é isso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;entre o sim e o não, existe apenas tres pontinhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;PS: Queria ser como nuvens, que se modificam a cada vento, e formam outras figuras, até chover e lavar os olhos de quem as vê na esperança de encontrar algo que não está lá.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-5317316546726006075?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5317316546726006075/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5317316546726006075' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5317316546726006075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5317316546726006075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/09/meu-pequeno-mundo-em-fragmentos.html' title='Meu pequeno mundo em fragmentos...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrfAfvSYc0I/AAAAAAAAA3c/WvmSqkji5R8/s72-c/ty.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-2530099930882418201</id><published>2009-09-16T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T19:38:41.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sutilmente feroz...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrGgGUBUl3I/AAAAAAAAA3U/0udjHDnw26c/s1600-h/drftg.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382259059998365554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrGgGUBUl3I/AAAAAAAAA3U/0udjHDnw26c/s320/drftg.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Parece engraçado dizer que meu tempo feliz parece me agoniar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;estou andando pela estrada caída e nem sei para quais fotos olhar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha pele pergunta porque o sol queima desse jeito. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pensei que fosse fácil sorrir, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;houve momentos que sorri mais &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;e agora se me forço lembrar, posso enxergar seu olhar perdido, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;fitando minha pele. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Perto de ti ele é maior que o corredor de bebidas do supermercado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero parar de pensar tanto, quero sentir teus poros e me lambuzar na tua pele, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;comer tua respiração, e como um urso feroz me esfregar em ti, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;deixar a insanidade aflorar ao ponto de ser egoísta, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;erotica, obscena. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;A tua saliva que reuposa lentamente na minha, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;nossos lábios que se encaixam em uma dança quase romantica. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É hilário pensar que existe tempo, que existem ponteiros. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Quero brincar de te mostrar a ponta das minhas lengeries, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;quero roçar meu rosto na tua nuca e te ouvir sussurrando que não me quer, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;mas me agarrando como quem quer me engolir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Vou cometer um crime, quero rasgar as convenções &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;e morrer de prazer só de falar teu nome ao telefone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Podemos tomar um chimas também, se isso for mais excitante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: GELO PRA MIM É ÁGUA...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-2530099930882418201?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/2530099930882418201/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=2530099930882418201' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2530099930882418201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2530099930882418201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/09/sutilmente-feroz.html' title='Sutilmente feroz...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrGgGUBUl3I/AAAAAAAAA3U/0udjHDnw26c/s72-c/drftg.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6836880946884680904</id><published>2009-09-15T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T17:20:36.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minha estranha loucura...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrAvAu6IPdI/AAAAAAAAA3M/PBytls9eKgg/s1600-h/devaneio_imagem.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381853244346088914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrAvAu6IPdI/AAAAAAAAA3M/PBytls9eKgg/s320/devaneio_imagem.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Existe uma espécie de nuvem pairando sobre a minha cabeça &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Pode ser que eu tenha crescido em uma progressão geometrica a cada Natal &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;ou tenha encolhido, de forma que me iludi tanto e...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;passei a me ver como rascunho grande e melhor.&lt;br /&gt;Quando criança sonhava, tinha milhares de aptidões, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;poderia ser domadora de tartarugas se desejasse, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;plaft pum!, assim, do nada, impulsivamente, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;eu poderia ser uma rainha ou um mendigo com síndrome de D. Quixote. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Daí que aquela criança esticou, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;pela necessidade, para não se afogar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;para não ser pisada, para não ser mais um brinquedo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;sabe no que deu essa esticadeira?! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Em menos aptidões, agora sou limitada, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;posso fazer mil coisas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;mas elas não são tão gostosas no plano mental como costumavam ser.&lt;br /&gt;Os grandes seres pustulentos me forçam a ser um rascunho mais real, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;querem logo ver minha arte final, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;virei um bicho da seda de quinquilharias, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;fico comprando coisas que não me faltam &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;por achar que elas realmente me são necessárias, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;sou o conforto das corporações.&lt;br /&gt;sou uma cobra de mim mesma, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;cada vez mais busco a criança que me foi tirada,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;preciso, mesmo em carne viva, sobreviver.&lt;br /&gt;É chegada a hora de voltar aos tempos de&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"escreva uma redação com o máximo de 30 linhas sobre o que você faria se o mundo acabasse amanhã",&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;bons tempos da aula da tia Luiza, eu e meu lápis mudavamos o mundo!&lt;br /&gt;Quero escovar os dentes com Kolynnos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;quero me ver no espelho e sentir que aquela boboca que acreditava no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"paz e amor, bicho, môrô" ainda vive aqui. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Que vida sem graça, cujo os anos não voltam mais &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;e só nos resta a nostalgia, que semana que vem vira produto da indústrica fonográfica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS:Nem tudo se atribui a fantasia, ou nem mesmo se define em loucura.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6836880946884680904?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6836880946884680904/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6836880946884680904' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6836880946884680904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6836880946884680904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/09/minha-estranha-loucura.html' title='Minha estranha loucura...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SrAvAu6IPdI/AAAAAAAAA3M/PBytls9eKgg/s72-c/devaneio_imagem.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-3878531761616952630</id><published>2009-09-11T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T08:11:51.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OBSERVAÇÃO...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SqpoVXSKB9I/AAAAAAAAA3E/gLsG1eT7xxs/s1600-h/pantano.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380227421084190674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SqpoVXSKB9I/AAAAAAAAA3E/gLsG1eT7xxs/s320/pantano.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Baseado em um filme visto no feriado)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Em algum lugar do tempo...&lt;br /&gt;A natureza das coisas são incontrolavéis...&lt;br /&gt;Mas de alguma forma, a vida é ciclica...&lt;br /&gt;Na beira de um lago, um escorpião assustado, procura desesperadamente fugir de uma terrivel enchente..&lt;br /&gt;Ao longe avista um sapo, que nadava na superficie...&lt;br /&gt;Já ofegante o escorpião grita:&lt;br /&gt;-SAPO!!por favor!me ajude!eu não sei nadar, vou morrer nessa enchente, me leve com você!&lt;br /&gt;O sapo receioso diz:&lt;br /&gt;-Mas se eu te levar, você vai me atacar com sua calda, e seu veneno seria fatal...&lt;br /&gt;Então o escorpião assustado e disposto a tudo falou:&lt;br /&gt;-Mas se eu te atacar, eu morreria também, não vou fazer isso...&lt;br /&gt;O sapo convencido, vira-se para que o escorpião subisse em suas costas...&lt;br /&gt;Na metade do caminho, em um movimento preciso e rápido, o escorpião ataca o sapo, que agonizando pergunta:&lt;br /&gt;- Porque você fez isso?eu confiei em você!&lt;br /&gt;E o escorpião visivelmente abalado responde:&lt;br /&gt;- Me desculpa!é dá minha natureza, eu realmente não queria ter feito!&lt;br /&gt;Os dois morrem sem que tivessem a oportunidade de se compreenderem.&lt;br /&gt;Deus diante desse fato, deu-lhes outra vida, e a mesma situação.&lt;br /&gt;e...&lt;br /&gt;o escorpião desesperado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;-SAPO!!por favor!me ajude!eu não sei nadar, vou morrer nessa enchente, me leve com você!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;O sapo receioso diz:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;-Mas se eu te levar, você vai me atacar com sua calda, e seu veneno seria fatal...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Então o escorpião assustado e disposto a tudo falou:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;-Mas se eu te atacar, eu morreria também, não vou fazer isso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;O sapo convencido, vira-se para que o escorpião subisse em suas costas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Na metade do caminho novamente, em um movimento preciso e rápido, o escorpião ataca o sapo, então o escorpião lhe pergunta:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;-Porque você me ajudou novamente, porque fez isso?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;e o sapo lhe respondeu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;-É da minha natureza, ajudar quem precisa, mesmo que isso me custe muito caro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Então os dois morreram novamente, mas com a certeza de que não se muda a essencia, o que muda são as vivências...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Por isso não dá pra ter medo, mas também não dá pra se jogar na água se não sabemos nadar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Não devemos mudar nossa natureza porque a natureza de outra pessoa não é igual a nossa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Não devemos dar o "troco", "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;pagar com a mesma moeda".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;O escorpião age conforme a sua natureza e eu vou agir conforme a minha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Seu coração só pode dar o que nele está cheio..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;PS: O QUE VOCÊ OUVE QUANDO ESTÁ SOZINHO? QUANDO NÃO HÁ MAIS NADA PARA SER OUVIDO.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-3878531761616952630?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/3878531761616952630/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=3878531761616952630' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/3878531761616952630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/3878531761616952630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/09/observacao.html' title='OBSERVAÇÃO...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SqpoVXSKB9I/AAAAAAAAA3E/gLsG1eT7xxs/s72-c/pantano.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-9208191634868960004</id><published>2009-09-03T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T19:10:22.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SUSPIROS...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SqB2fUxq_uI/AAAAAAAAA20/x9VotdpQaIQ/s1600-h/look-s_closed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377428235605442274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SqB2fUxq_uI/AAAAAAAAA20/x9VotdpQaIQ/s320/look-s_closed.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A crença de que os outros não deveriam nos ter tratado como o fizeram é, obviamente, um erro.&lt;br /&gt;Em vez de ficarmos com raiva da forma como fomos tratados, precisamos aprender a ver tal tratamento de outra perspectiva. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Eles fizeram o que sabiam fazer, dadas as condições de suas vidas.&lt;br /&gt;Aprender a perdoar envolve aprender a corrigir as más interpretações que criamos com nossa própria visão das coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Quando compreendermos que somos nós que fazemos acontecer tudo que ocorre em nossa existência, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;então estaremos numa posição de saber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;que até fazemos os outros acontecerem em nossas vidas para termos a quem culpar.&lt;br /&gt;Quando tivermos nossos pensamentos claros, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;chegará ao ponto em que não será mais necessário praticar o perdão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Teremos percebido que a vida é uma série de acontecimentos que criamos ou atraimos para nós mesmos.&lt;br /&gt;Assim, perceberemos que não há nada a perdoar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;porque não há nada a julgar e ninguém para culpar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;se espera muito nesses dias úmidos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;quando passar o que poderá me preencher? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;a lua, o mar, o vento, a chuva as estrelas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;não saberiam me contar como você está saindo de um plano tão lindo de uma cena que eu posso ver quando eu fecho os olhos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;sonho com uma cor e tons de você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;dessa imensa ventania que antes era o movimento,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;mais febril e inovador, da sua ferida!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;o seu descaso!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;para com essa emoção da tortura dos seus olhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;da sua mágoa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;do seu desrespeito,com o outro da sua falta de companhia &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;de sentimentos baratos e superficiais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;do mundo de cara amarrada,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;do gosto amargo no céu da boca!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;da falta de saudade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;de ter perdido o medo de tudo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;de não querer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;de simplesmente ter por ter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sem sentido algum...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;de ir sem saber?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;para que? e porquê?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;pergunto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS:QUEM AMA, VIVE NUM MUNDO DE AMOR..&lt;br /&gt;QUEM É HOSTIL VIVE NUM MUNDO HOSTIL.&lt;br /&gt;CADA PESSOA QUE VOCE ENCONTRA REFLETE A SUA IMAGEM.&lt;br /&gt;QUANDO VOCÊ VAI PERCEBER, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;QUE NÃO HÁ NADA DE QUE PRECISE, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;QUE VOCÊ JÁ NÃO TENHA?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-9208191634868960004?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/9208191634868960004/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=9208191634868960004' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/9208191634868960004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/9208191634868960004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/09/suspiros.html' title='SUSPIROS...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SqB2fUxq_uI/AAAAAAAAA20/x9VotdpQaIQ/s72-c/look-s_closed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1665859461536632116</id><published>2009-08-31T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T19:53:09.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Naufrágo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SpyMd6Z59YI/AAAAAAAAA2s/x90S-lgQpSA/s1600-h/20070415165534_naufrago800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376326500695537026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 171px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SpyMd6Z59YI/AAAAAAAAA2s/x90S-lgQpSA/s320/20070415165534_naufrago800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Depois de todas as tempestades e naufrágios, o que fica em mim é cada vez mais essencial e verdadeiro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;PS:E aquele que foi visto dançando foi julgado insano por aqueles que não podiam ouvir a musica.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-1665859461536632116?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1665859461536632116/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1665859461536632116' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1665859461536632116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1665859461536632116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/naufrago.html' title='Naufrágo...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SpyMd6Z59YI/AAAAAAAAA2s/x90S-lgQpSA/s72-c/20070415165534_naufrago800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1122951500446757195</id><published>2009-08-28T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T08:34:03.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O voo livre...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Spf2q9CBZNI/AAAAAAAAA2k/-Y83ZCT8QMo/s1600-h/pes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375035898087957714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 224px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Spf2q9CBZNI/AAAAAAAAA2k/-Y83ZCT8QMo/s320/pes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Seria fantástico nesses dias se você falasse dessa força sobrenatural...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;que encontra-se em qulaquer lugar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;andar distraído sem correr perigo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;em um bom dia uma tarde rica! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;uma nova onda que rola...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;levando aquela flor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;de uma canção que pede uma mensagem... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;para uma espécie que não poderia aprender o amor &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;está nos olhos dos outros... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;seria fatal paixão! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;hoje!!!em dias...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;eu sou tão vulnerável a esse ardor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;e...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;sim eu te quero,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;continuo querendo esses mesmos lábios...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;como num veleiro que navega para lugares mistériosos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;inundando as nossas ilusões...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;essa fantasia não sai do meu pensamento... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;de ser uma vitória de um leito, que segue por ai...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;com os braços fechados!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;e um colar tão lindo quanto o movimento! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;que nos faz sonhar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;e na verdade ainda há amor em tantos momentos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;venha comigo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;vamos traçar um caminho...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;existe tanta vida nessa nossa sorte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS:Depois que me apaixonei nunca mais falo mal dos insetos idiotas que se jogam e se queimam na lâmpada...&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/5728123282729694992-1122951500446757195?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1122951500446757195/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1122951500446757195' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1122951500446757195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1122951500446757195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-voo-livre.html' title='O voo livre...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Spf2q9CBZNI/AAAAAAAAA2k/-Y83ZCT8QMo/s72-c/pes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-4485514273829947868</id><published>2009-08-24T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T17:53:56.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dúvidas ou certeza...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SpMxU8L_b7I/AAAAAAAAA2c/lpUGco4hQEc/s1600-h/fgh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373693016206700466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SpMxU8L_b7I/AAAAAAAAA2c/lpUGco4hQEc/s320/fgh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Achar os melhores caminhos pode parecer fácil,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;mas nem sempre somos capazes de ver aquilo que de tão obvio cega nossa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;capacidade de discernimento... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Preferimos esperar pelo duvidoso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;crer no incerto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;sonhar o impossível,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;amar a indiferença,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;ir de encontro ao intolerável,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;fazer e acreditar naquilo que ningém mais consegue entender...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;A não ser nós mesmos e nossa impetuosa certeza. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Não planejamos riscos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;não medimos conseqüências,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;atendemos somente o lado insano e desprovido de proguinósticos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;que alimentamos continuamente a cada sorte produzida &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Certos ou errados o juízo de valores a que nos submetemos está em cada conquista&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;ou fracasso, vivemos uma constante e atribulada emoção,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;somos julgados e julgamos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;aprendemos a cair e nos erguer nos momentos mais tolos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;ou naqeles onde nos impulsionamos frente aos nossos próprios limites &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Viver de forma justa é a maior prova que podes dar a si mesmo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;O certo pra você nem sempre será o correto para aquele que estará sempre &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;disposto à lhe apontar a direção contraria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Julgue a ti prioritariamente antes de julgar o outro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;PS:Seja o melhor que puder, para ter o melhor que vc mereça!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-4485514273829947868?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/4485514273829947868/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=4485514273829947868' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4485514273829947868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4485514273829947868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/duvidas-ou-certeza.html' title='Dúvidas ou certeza...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SpMxU8L_b7I/AAAAAAAAA2c/lpUGco4hQEc/s72-c/fgh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-4296955488698275145</id><published>2009-08-20T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T10:03:51.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Entre Tempos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/So17XPqRBmI/AAAAAAAAA2U/Yqm_IDIX_-A/s1600-h/gota2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372085569793885794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/So17XPqRBmI/AAAAAAAAA2U/Yqm_IDIX_-A/s320/gota2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;No começo pareceu-me estranho, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;mas depois compreendi que não passavas de uma ilusão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Quis te encontrar em diversos lugares. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Houve dias em que eu saía de casa para sentar num banco qualquer, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;num lugar qualquer, sem importar que horas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;esperando, com um pouquinho de sorte, te ver passar por mim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Pode ter sido falta de atenção da minha parte, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;pois nunca, em nenhuma dessas vezes, eu te vi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;De acordo com as minhas estatísticas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;e veja que eu me dediquei a esta matéria exatamente para calcular as chances de nos encontrarmos no espaço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;era tudo uma questão de número de bancos, lugares e tempo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Às vezes o número de pássaros que eu avistava no céu também poderia influenciar nos resultados. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Tinha uma caderneta que sempre levava comigo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;fosse para anotar números e fazer cálculos ou para servir de janela ao meu coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;meus olhos não eram os únicos que esperavam ansiosos pela formação da sua imagem na minha retina. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Passado um tempo, percebi a chegada do inverno. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Acordava e não queria levantar da cama. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Por que não vinhas me abrigar? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;O frio nunca me fez muito bem, também nunca gostei muito dele. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Muito menos agora que me incapacitava de continuar a minha, tua, busca. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;O nosso, meu, teu, encontro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Com dificuldade conseguia andar até a cozinha e aquecer um pouco de água. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Os números eram negativos agora. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;O aumento da louça suja, a temperatura da água e a migração dos pássaros não me traziam resultados favoráveis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Nem roupas quentes eu tinha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Havia estado muito ocupada te esperando e não me preparara para esta época fria do ano. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Passei a maior parte do tempo deitada, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;mas eu precisava ao menos fazer de conta que eu poderia te ver. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Durante esse inverno, a campainha chegou a tocar umas duas vezes, mas não eras tu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Não sei como, mas a questão é que as estações fizeram o seu jogo mais uma vez e eu acordei. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Já estava pronta para vestir minhas roupas e calçado e ir novamente às ruas da cidade. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Havia acordado relativamente cedo, o sol já estava no seu lugar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;iluminando meu rosto frio e cansado do inverno. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;As coisas já não me pareciam as mesmas de antes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Sentei no banco número dezesseis, vi duas aves sobrevoando os céus, algumas nuvens sem forma e anotei tudo na minha caderneta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Desta vez deu conjunto vazio. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Não entendi o que havia mudado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Levantei assustada e fui andando para casa rapidamente, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;olhando para o chão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Não quis ver se estarias passando do meu lado nessa minha trajetória. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Conjunto vazio. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Senti uma brisa não cálida, deixou a ponta do meu nariz e das minhas orelhas frias. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Coloquei as mãos nos bolsos do meu casaco. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Andei tão rápido que tropecei num número ímpar de pedras e as coisas não mudaram quando cheguei em casa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Tudo estava diferente, minha visão adormeceu e meus olhos fecharam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;A questão é que eu nunca poderia te visualizar de fato. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Delírios de tempos frios. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;No começo pareceu-me estranho, mas logo fez sentido, minha natureza humana não compatível com temperaturas baixas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Nâo sei que parte de mim escapa pelos dedos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;e mostra essa ferida!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;e muito menos a outra parte que caminha sozinha... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;feliz! por ai...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;criar uma vertente às vezes é a única esperança &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;de quem sonha ao avesso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;um leve desaforo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;dos meus olhos cansados...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;ela está no meu coração...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;de uma maneira quase sentimental &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;meramente um dramalhão,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;que opera as melodias cantaroladas na voz de uma qualquer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;que não sai da minha cabeça...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;uma letra com nuances...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;de uma palavra presa e cansada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-4296955488698275145?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/4296955488698275145/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=4296955488698275145' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4296955488698275145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4296955488698275145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/entre-tmpos.html' title='Entre Tempos...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/So17XPqRBmI/AAAAAAAAA2U/Yqm_IDIX_-A/s72-c/gota2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-8919299851405303903</id><published>2009-08-17T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T09:06:33.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CANSEI...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sol-_Jw-oCI/AAAAAAAAA2M/mWDJObKKAok/s1600-h/distancia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370963654034235426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sol-_Jw-oCI/AAAAAAAAA2M/mWDJObKKAok/s320/distancia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sol-DIQ9o_I/AAAAAAAAA2E/3dJZXD5smg0/s1600-h/20070714-foz.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Tenho saudades de viver um mundo sem fim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Ver o vento levar as ondas pelo mar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;A lua dá só um olhar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Não houve outro caminho senão fosse ultrapassar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Eu levo a saudade e recordação comigo pro futuro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Mais uma lição dentro do meu coração...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Levado pela minha mente, seguindo em frente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Caminho pelo caminho que levo e...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Vivo, fazendo o que tenho a fazer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;De nada me arrependo nem vou arrepender...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Porque sei sempre aquilo que eu quero.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Tenho saudades, de te ter aqui...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Já pensei demais, já sofri demais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Eu quis acreditar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Vi, que não tinha saida, fechei os olhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Escorreu uma lágrima...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Sabia o que tava fazendo mas, quem sentia era apenas o meu coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Não há nada que me leve a pensar, nada que me toca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Na realidade sei, que não me fez bem, mas agora já ultrapassei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;E eu apenas curto relembrar, é duro querer-te aqui mas ter de afastar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Já não sei mais no que acreditar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;cansei...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-8919299851405303903?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/8919299851405303903/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=8919299851405303903' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8919299851405303903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8919299851405303903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/cansei.html' title='CANSEI...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sol-_Jw-oCI/AAAAAAAAA2M/mWDJObKKAok/s72-c/distancia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1215342228890585262</id><published>2009-08-14T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T20:11:26.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TODA AÇÃO TEM UMA CONSEQUENCIA...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SoYnEVLDFDI/AAAAAAAAA18/5E815fkmIPI/s1600-h/rtfyg.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370022561042338866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SoYnEVLDFDI/AAAAAAAAA18/5E815fkmIPI/s320/rtfyg.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SoYmzs24rXI/AAAAAAAAA10/RBm94MlaMZA/s1600-h/corda.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Só me faltava essa agora...&lt;br /&gt;Deixar brotar um medo no meio da felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;mania estúpida do ser humano cismar que a vida não é suficiente.&lt;br /&gt;ai depois fica olhando as pedras, ventos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;algumas coisas que deram errado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;uma flor no meio do caminho,&lt;br /&gt;fica olhando assim mesmo ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;o olho dos bichos e o cheiro de um mato industrial pra ver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;se entende alguma coisa sobre sentimento.&lt;br /&gt;depois finge que adianta escrever...&lt;br /&gt;depois finge que adianta ler a explicação dos outros pelas pedras... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;olho de bicho e flores desmioladas no meio do caminho.&lt;br /&gt;Que caminho? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Quem mandou ter coração do tipo que se espreme pra jorrar sangue?&lt;br /&gt;não entendeu ainda o que toda essa mídia tá tentando dizer?&lt;br /&gt;compra, assina embaixo, dá um sorriso, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;faz alguma coisa nótoria original e rápido! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;mas não me inventa de sentir alguma coisa, sabe por que? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;não combina com o mundo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;tá off , breguinha, borra a maquiagem, comprime o estomago...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;essa cara de chupar limão do seu choro vai te encher de rugas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;você vai gastar no botox o que poderia estar esbanjando em experiencias mais prazerosas…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: SÓ SIGO UM CAMINHO QUANDO ACREDITO NELE, NÃO QUERO GASTAR NO BOTOX....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-1215342228890585262?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1215342228890585262/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1215342228890585262' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1215342228890585262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1215342228890585262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/toda-acao-tem-uma-consequencia.html' title='TODA AÇÃO TEM UMA CONSEQUENCIA...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SoYnEVLDFDI/AAAAAAAAA18/5E815fkmIPI/s72-c/rtfyg.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-2162855515616641661</id><published>2009-08-12T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T19:21:58.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LIMITES..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SoNtaIuPAkI/AAAAAAAAA1s/OD86mkNHaUo/s1600-h/cais-do-porto-em-porto-alegre.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369255476541194818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SoNtaIuPAkI/AAAAAAAAA1s/OD86mkNHaUo/s320/cais-do-porto-em-porto-alegre.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Fui ao porto (Limites entre chegadas e partidas) e a um marinheiro de olhos roubados do mar perguntei onde estava o peso que me dominaria junto ao fim do oceano ele me disse:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;âncora não se pode comprar, vem com o barco...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;vim com defeito, pensei,&lt;br /&gt;estou sujeita ao vento provocado pela asa dos pássaros... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;todo o tempo que se desliza sobre esse infinito salgado... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;a âncora fica guardada,&lt;br /&gt;silenciosa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;não se percebe seu peso até que revele sua real utilidade. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;segurar o mundo enquando o barco não pára de rodar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;O amor é tão forte, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;nós geralmente não somos fortes o suficiente para conseguir segurar firme nosso leme.&lt;br /&gt;Veja, as paixões são as velas do barquinho.&lt;br /&gt;E alguém  abandona-se inteiramente a seus sentimentos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;apanha vento demais nas velas e seu barco faz água,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;e naufraga...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;a não ser que ele se recupere.&lt;br /&gt;Alguém que em compensação iça em seu mastro a vela "Ambição" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;e siga direto pela vida, sem acidentes, sem sobressaltos, até que...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;enfim aparecem circunstâncias que o fazem observar: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;não tenho velas o bastante, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;e diz então: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;daria tudo o que tenho por um metro quadrado de vela a mais e não o tenho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Ele se desespera.&lt;br /&gt;Ah! mas então ele reconsidera e imagina poder utilizar uma outra...&lt;br /&gt;ele pensa na vela até então desprezada que sempre tivera guardada no porão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E e se ele não a içar, ele não chegará nunca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: Jogo minha âncora longe do porto, não exite mais chegadas, só partidas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-2162855515616641661?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/2162855515616641661/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=2162855515616641661' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2162855515616641661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2162855515616641661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/limites.html' title='LIMITES..'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SoNtaIuPAkI/AAAAAAAAA1s/OD86mkNHaUo/s72-c/cais-do-porto-em-porto-alegre.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6054419091002411298</id><published>2009-08-09T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T16:47:16.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O pássaro...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sn9f6wz3wgI/AAAAAAAAA1k/bFf4TEOGBkw/s1600-h/passaro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368114743988437506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sn9f6wz3wgI/AAAAAAAAA1k/bFf4TEOGBkw/s320/passaro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;EU queria ter um pássaro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;De roxo e laranja são as penas desse pássaro de coração inxado e grave no canto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Elas são ordenadas de tal efeito ótico que de longe ele parece fogo.&lt;br /&gt;Mas ele é roxo por dentro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Como tudo que brilha em horas invisíveis.&lt;br /&gt;Ele canta como se o mundo morasse dentro de quem o ouve. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Ele sabe fazer isso porque ele não sabe que faz isso. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Ele poderia se chamar meu "amor".&lt;br /&gt;Ele respira luz sem querer e penteia suas penas ruivas todos os dias enquanto finge que não sabe voar.&lt;br /&gt;A casa dele se chama gaiola. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Tem um cadeado bem grande e pesado na frente.&lt;br /&gt;Não se sabe se foi alguém que o amou ou o amor que ele tinha ao amor que sentiam por ele.&lt;br /&gt;O espaço entre uma grade e outra delimita um caminho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;pelo qual seu peitoral cantante jamais conseguiria passar.&lt;br /&gt;Ele é pendurado lá em cima. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Como se fosse um Deus..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Como se tivesse asas.&lt;br /&gt;E ele as tem.&lt;br /&gt;Ele olha o horizonte para encontrar a liberdade em seus acordes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Lamenta suas asas sem notar que as portas de sua gaiola sempre estiveram escancaradamente abertas pelo tom das possibilidades...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: Um espaço entre o impulso e o vão,&lt;br /&gt;entre o salto e o chão&lt;br /&gt;desencadeando os degraus das circunstâncias&lt;br /&gt;instâncias de cada pequena medida dos teus pés.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6054419091002411298?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6054419091002411298/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6054419091002411298' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6054419091002411298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6054419091002411298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-passaro.html' title='O pássaro...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sn9f6wz3wgI/AAAAAAAAA1k/bFf4TEOGBkw/s72-c/passaro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-2019057851131780321</id><published>2009-08-07T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T07:52:05.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Já ?mas foi ontem...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Snw_VgmY4TI/AAAAAAAAA1c/Fe4-E6ycYCc/s1600-h/Veneza2004Gondoleiros.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367234494679540018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Snw_VgmY4TI/AAAAAAAAA1c/Fe4-E6ycYCc/s320/Veneza2004Gondoleiros.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Pena que foi mais do que a gente tentou, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Frágil e fugaz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Como um ato de amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Dentro do olhar há uma luz que se fez,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Como pra lembrar o limite, talvez...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quando foi comum,teimo em pensar,foi apenas um.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;E sempre será...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Fica em seu lugar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A sombra que iluminou um fio de luar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Indo por onde eu vou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pássaro que sai a&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;trás do caçador...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Noite que cai...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Como um grito de dor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quando foi comum foi apenas breve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Fosse eu feliz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: JÁ ESTOU CANSADA DE ESPERAR AMOR, COMPREENSÃO, CARINHO &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;QUERO ALGUÉM QUE TENHA O CORAÇÃO QUE SEJA COMO O MEU... SOZINHO ALGUÉM A QUEM EU AME QUE NÃO ME DEIXE TRISTE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;QUE TENHA MUITO AMOR PRA DAR &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;QUE ME DÊ MUITA FORÇA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;E ME OFEREÇA COLO NA HORA DE DORMIR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;JÁ ESTOU CANSADO DE ESPERAR.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-2019057851131780321?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/2019057851131780321/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=2019057851131780321' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2019057851131780321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2019057851131780321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/ja-mas-foi-ontem.html' title='Já ?mas foi ontem...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Snw_VgmY4TI/AAAAAAAAA1c/Fe4-E6ycYCc/s72-c/Veneza2004Gondoleiros.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-229045533296980745</id><published>2009-08-06T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T11:30:18.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UMA MÚSICA PRA VOCÊ!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SnsAcSS07AI/AAAAAAAAA1U/AAbp2otXwVg/s1600-h/7895musica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366883866889219074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SnsAcSS07AI/AAAAAAAAA1U/AAbp2otXwVg/s320/7895musica.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Acho que fiz meia música para você...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Aceita a minha meia música?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Desculpa o meu vexame...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;De fazer meia música para você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Acho que quero ser meio de você...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Metade da metade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Do meio que provoca o teu prazer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Foi um toque...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Um sorriso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Um gesto tolo sem amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Um sinal certo e preciso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;E ninguém sequer notou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Só que o corpo é mais sábio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Sabe olhar o interior.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Foi um limo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;A pedra lisa onde a alma escorregou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;E rasgou sua blusa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Fez da brisa o cobertor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;E vestiu-me de pureza...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Pra viver um novo amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Sonhos em segredos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Medo e calor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Vida se renova...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Tudo tem sabor....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Agora quero te fazer uma música inteira.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Agora não quero mais aquela música ligeira! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Agora eu estou sentindo mais do que dizendo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Agora quero ser tua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Provar do gosto de estar vivendo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Perder pra te ganhar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Ouvir sem escutar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Agora a amizade é mais que amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Agora ficar aqui?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Um som que move...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Outro comove...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Agora acho que fiz uma música e meia pra você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: SILÊNCIO É EXTERNO&lt;br /&gt;quando é interno a gente sorri&lt;br /&gt;Só é mutuo dentro de um beijo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-229045533296980745?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/229045533296980745/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=229045533296980745' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/229045533296980745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/229045533296980745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/uma-musica-pra-voce.html' title='UMA MÚSICA PRA VOCÊ!'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SnsAcSS07AI/AAAAAAAAA1U/AAbp2otXwVg/s72-c/7895musica.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-4190045640112944495</id><published>2009-08-03T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:51:55.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Entre o ar e a terra...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SneTDmh7lTI/AAAAAAAAA1A/MHxtfZjDKO8/s1600-h/carinho-2390.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365919171126990130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SneTDmh7lTI/AAAAAAAAA1A/MHxtfZjDKO8/s320/carinho-2390.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Como uma máquina que se alimenta de vida o inevitável aconteceu,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;A vontade de pedir para ficar se torna uma vida cheia de tensões,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;e dúvidas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;porque só vivo de pulsão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;E na teoria fica tudo tão mais fácil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Você rosna falando sobre sentimentos, mundos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;abreviaturas e mistérios construídos por você,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;abre meus caminhos deixando o meu líquido avermelhado circular&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;pela veia quase fina que bombeia o meu ritmo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;e abre meus poros sem deixar que a vida morra sem está ilusão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;O meu amor pode ser diferente,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;mas não tão pouco...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;tão intenso e romântico.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não se confunda comigo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Quando eu desvio e não falo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;a boca cala e os olhos imploram,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;entenda quando eu pegar a sua mão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Minha vida era um palco iluminado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eu vivia vestida de dourado..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Palhaça das perdidas ilusões...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Cheia dos guizos da alegria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Andei cantando a minha fantasia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Entre as palmas febris dos corações.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Esqueça o tempo e venha caminhar comigo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;mesmo sendo frio não precisa trazer agasalho!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Que eu te esquento até o inverno acabar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: Agora carrego a defesa de querer partir com o mesmo fervor de uma chegada como se o que me diz fosse verdade em que eu pudesse acreditar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Um pouco de mim, ficam bem assim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-4190045640112944495?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/4190045640112944495/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=4190045640112944495' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4190045640112944495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4190045640112944495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/entre-o-ar-e-terra.html' title='Entre o ar e a terra...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SneTDmh7lTI/AAAAAAAAA1A/MHxtfZjDKO8/s72-c/carinho-2390.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6060913624885809842</id><published>2009-08-02T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T19:18:18.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O meu sol...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SnZImpRFJoI/AAAAAAAAA04/01dneLBbcjk/s1600-h/yhgjk.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365555834808247938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SnZImpRFJoI/AAAAAAAAA04/01dneLBbcjk/s320/yhgjk.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;A sorte me escolheu quando conheci você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tinha o coração sofrido...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Me senti muito à vontade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Me liguei no seu jeitinho nesse seu lindo sorriso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Hoje quando acordei eu decidi não vou sofrer mais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eu não tenho medo de perder o meu coração pra você..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tantos dias sofri sem saber o porquê eu quero ver flores no campo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Os raios do sol...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eu quero que passem as nuvens negras...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eu quero você nos meus olhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eu quero o reflexo do nosso carinho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Hoje quando acordei eu prometi quero viver mais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Já te olho sem ter que sofrer pra me entregar a você...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tantos dias perdi sem saber o porquê eu te quero...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;O calor e o frio à confundir o antes e o depois...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pega a minha mão...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pensa no luar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Deixa tudo acontecer bem devagar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eu acordei nessa manhã, procurando por você...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pode ser que seja normal...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Acordar querendo te ver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pode ser que seja fatal para mim, ficar sem você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pode ser que o amor seja assim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;E o remédio seja esperar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pode ser que eu ria de mim quando tudo isso acabar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Antes que eu sinta mais saudades de você...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Quem sabe a gente não se encontra pela rua...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Ainda é cedo e tudo pode acontecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;A chance é toda sua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pode ser seu jeito de olhar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Um sorriso basta pra mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Faz o mundo inteiro parar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Faz o coração dizer sim!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pode ser que eu queira demais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;E você nem queira saber...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pode ser que seja fugaz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Mas eu quero estar com você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eu visto a roupa mais bonita pra te ver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Quem sabe a gente não se encontra pela rua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;A noite cai e tudo pode acontecer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Debaixo dessa lua...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Bem ou mal...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tudo se mistura, tudo é natural.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Prazer e tortura juntos, bem ou mal...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Se você quer calma, eu quero um temporal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;De amor e prazer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS:Agora aprendi porque o mundo dá volta,quanto mais a gente se solta mais fica no mesmo lugar!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-6060913624885809842?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6060913624885809842/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6060913624885809842' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6060913624885809842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6060913624885809842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-meu-sol.html' title='O meu sol...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SnZImpRFJoI/AAAAAAAAA04/01dneLBbcjk/s72-c/yhgjk.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1361837924217640992</id><published>2009-07-25T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T08:41:17.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Onde está você agora???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sms0z6p4bmI/AAAAAAAAA0g/nPWh1VfIgBE/s1600-h/paixao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362437847837601378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sms0z6p4bmI/AAAAAAAAA0g/nPWh1VfIgBE/s320/paixao.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Smsp9XFNx6I/AAAAAAAAA0Y/_g7rxii6YbI/s1600-h/xtelinha527373316.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Coisas Que Vem Pra Ficar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Um alguém que você conheceu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Assim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Quando eu já não acreditava mais em reciprocosidades...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Afeto gratuito...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Atenção!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pela minha história, me pergunto:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Quanto tempo nessa vida você acha que precisa pra aprender &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;que o TEMPO não te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;da chance de tentar outra vez?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Quantas coisas você tenta fazer hoje que deveria ter feito antes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Porém antes tarde do que nunca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Ontem sol, hoje a chuva lava a alma...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;E traz boas lembranças.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Que seja essa nossa herança&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Você veio no momento que eu estava assim tão baixo astral...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;me beija a boca, me abraça com suavidade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;escorregando suas mãos em minhas costas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;A mão que pega meus cabelos pela nuca...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Senti um arrepio que percorria minha coluna...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;um friozinho no estomago...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;derrepente um silêncio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;o medo veio assombrar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;então você se esconde...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;eu me escondo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;e...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;eu só queria te achar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;passa um tempo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;O telefone toca numa noite fria...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eu atendo sem ver o número...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Segundos sem ar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Um encontro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Apenas uma resposta me passou na cabeça...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não vou mais questionar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tirei os sapatos ainda no elevador,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;num mesmo gesto abri a porta e o zíper &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;despia-me pela casa...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;deixando camadas de rua pelos cômodos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Num ímpeto entrei no chuveiro dando pulinhos de gelo e alegria... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tinha dificuldade em lavar o rosto: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;por mais que esfregasse meu sorriso não borrava... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;soletrava P A I X A O no espelho embaçado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;e podia ver fragmentos da sua imagem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;no meio da palavra. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Abri o armário... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sabia há dias que roupa ia vestir. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;e enquanto colocava cada peça... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;saboreiava na imaginação o modo como seriam tiradas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pedaços desconexos do seu carinho entulham o quarto de esperança.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eu só quero te dizer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tudo pode acontecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS:Sentir, sem que se veja, a quem se adora. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Arder por afogá-la em mil abraços....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A vida não pode ser a festa que esperávamosmas enquanto estamos aqui, devemos dançar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/5728123282729694992-1361837924217640992?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1361837924217640992/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1361837924217640992' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1361837924217640992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1361837924217640992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/07/onde-esta-voce-agora.html' title='Onde está você agora???'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sms0z6p4bmI/AAAAAAAAA0g/nPWh1VfIgBE/s72-c/paixao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-254382351478317433</id><published>2009-07-19T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T19:32:32.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ausência...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SmPVeMIedDI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/KB8VHKgt_dA/s1600-h/tazacafa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360362696130589746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SmPVeMIedDI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/KB8VHKgt_dA/s320/tazacafa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Por algum tempo acreditei que ausência era somente falta de "algo"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;É...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Faltou o açucar no café...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;A "ausência" do fator "doce" fez amargo o café...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Na verdade ausência é mais do que não exixtir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;É saber que existe algo, mas que você não tem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;E..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt; eu sempre estive aqui...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Com as mãos cheias de açucar pra adoçar seu café...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Mas você nunca olhou de fato as minhas mãos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Por algum tempo procurei dividir minha doçura com quem gostasse do meu açucar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Então você me chama a atenção...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Quer saber por onde andei, que não estava mais alí...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Na verdade, eu nunca fiz parte integral do seu sistema...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Talvez você queria apenas um açucar refinado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Enquanto o meu era mascavo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Não despertava o seu interesse...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Você nunca vai saber de fato o meu sabor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Mas..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Agora pouco importa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Já não tenho mais açucar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Embora goste muito de cafés...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Então pingo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Três gotas de estévia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Eu não preciso de muito...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Mas migalhas me encomodam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Prefiro então um café puro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Bem forte...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Porque fraco, são meus olhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Que insistem em chorar por você...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;PS: NÃO CHAME MINHA ATENÇÃO, SE VOCÊ NÃO SABE O QUE FAZER COM ELA!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-254382351478317433?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/254382351478317433/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=254382351478317433' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/254382351478317433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/254382351478317433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/07/ausencia.html' title='Ausência...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SmPVeMIedDI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/KB8VHKgt_dA/s72-c/tazacafa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-774864190271350667</id><published>2009-07-15T11:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T11:58:38.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E...No inicio, ou no fim? é sempre um E..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sl4le7gg0nI/AAAAAAAAA0I/vamVe7KuSBM/s1600-h/letra_e.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358761819917832818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 235px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sl4le7gg0nI/AAAAAAAAA0I/vamVe7KuSBM/s320/letra_e.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;...Era uma vez...(quase todos os contos de fadas começa assim...).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;"E"...&lt;br /&gt;Quinta letra do alfabeto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Em maiúscula símbolo de intensidade de campo elétrico. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;(Olha a mensagem subliminar do conto de fada…)&lt;br /&gt;Aditiva :une orações e palavras, OU adversativa: mas porém. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;A história até o “e viveram felizes para sempre” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;pode tanto ter sido ótima (“e” como aditiva) como uma bela porcaria &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;(“e” como adversativa). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;De qualquer forma o “e” indica que muita coisa veio antes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;E, portanto viver feliz para sempre não é a parte central da história.&lt;br /&gt;“e viveram felizes para sempre…” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;uma maneira vaga e constante fixada no passado que tem como fim acreditar no outro como uma forma de felicidade pelo fato de estar vivo e…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;E a prisão é sua...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;E só você tem a chave...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Condene-se ou liberte-se...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;E eu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;posso estar perto, ou longe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Depende do que vem antes do seu"E", ou o que vem depois...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;E quem sabe um dia podemos guegar perto do Z.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;o importante é não parar no "E"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-774864190271350667?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/774864190271350667/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=774864190271350667' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/774864190271350667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/774864190271350667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/07/eno-inicio-ou-no-fim-e-sempre-um-e.html' title='E...No inicio, ou no fim? é sempre um E..'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sl4le7gg0nI/AAAAAAAAA0I/vamVe7KuSBM/s72-c/letra_e.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5995780153070723827</id><published>2009-07-12T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T18:43:36.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doce, só as nuvens...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SlqQzl-cSZI/AAAAAAAAA0A/DntJV-YdKTM/s1600-h/rdtfg.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357753922752366994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SlqQzl-cSZI/AAAAAAAAA0A/DntJV-YdKTM/s320/rdtfg.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Se hoje me chegasse uma flor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Mesmo tímida. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Mesmo singela e miudinha cheia de tons... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;eu saberia ver? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Por tudo de jardim que aprendi e desaprendi, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;seria eu capaz de discernir entre a beleza brotante e as ervas daninhas? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Talvez a resposta seja não, quando mais queria dizer sim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Talvez seja sim, e os olhos se turvem no não. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Então, entre o sim e o não, que ficam os dias de dentro e os dias de fora, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;aonde estaria a vivência da flor, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;a existência simples de ser?&lt;br /&gt;E se hoje o tempo me fizesse flor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Mesmo entregue e ao mesmo tempo desconfiada... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;eu saberia ser? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Entre o sim e o não, dessa vez pergunto a você... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Pois a coragem de sempre persiste, mas equilibrista anda a fé...&lt;br /&gt;Que a gente saiba fluir, e não seja só uma palavra, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;ou uma palavra só. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Fui injusta em alguns momentos da vida, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;a maioria das vezes por distração. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;De repente eu lembro que de noite existe lua e ao olhá-la percebo que ela não participou do meu céu por muitos dias. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Às vezes só lembramos de olhar para cima quando um pingo de água do ar condicionado inconveniente nos arremata o nariz num dia ensolarado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Se você tiver auto-estima frágil logo pensará em plástica. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;“Um chão enorme desses pras coisas caírem e eu tenho um alvo nasal no meio da cara!”&lt;br /&gt;Quando era criança observava as formigas e me irritava o fato de elas serem mais organizadas do que eu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Numa espécie de vingança eu tirava a primeira da fila e botava lá para trás!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;A-há! Agora se embananaram né? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Mas acho que isso não faz de mim uma Hitler dos insetos faz?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: É sobre sentimento que escrevo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;É sobre um amor que nunca morreu, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;apenas foi acalmado pelo tempo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;mas que sempre será aclamado pelo coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;É a amizade que ultrapassa quilometros, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;ultrapassa o tempo e não se apaga na lembrança.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;É como acordar e lembrar de coisas que aconteceram anos atrás como se fossem no dia de ontem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Lembrar do seu sorriso acalma minha saudade!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-5995780153070723827?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5995780153070723827/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5995780153070723827' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5995780153070723827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5995780153070723827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/07/doce-so-as-nuvens.html' title='Doce, só as nuvens...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SlqQzl-cSZI/AAAAAAAAA0A/DntJV-YdKTM/s72-c/rdtfg.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-130073110424942303</id><published>2009-07-10T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T10:47:25.435-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O peso do Amor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sld-lNy878I/AAAAAAAAAz4/hFMYwOJURPw/s1600-h/4872225ai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356889459604123586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sld-lNy878I/AAAAAAAAAz4/hFMYwOJURPw/s320/4872225ai.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;A definição de amor no dicionário tem tantas palavras e cada uma dessas tantas palavras tem tantas outras usadas para defini-la e assim por diante até o infinito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Que é onde eu te amo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;mas não dá pra dizer porque precisaria de todas as palavras do mundo, mesmo que não faça sentido, mesmo que sejam palavras ruins porque todas as palavras estão interligadas porque todas as palavras são definidas pelas próprias palavras.&lt;br /&gt;Eu te amo, mas não posso dizer isso porque eu nunca li o dicionário inteiro então não sei o que vem de todas as combinações de todas as palavras do mundo quando eu digo que eu te amo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;E isso só na minha língua. Sem falar nas outras.&lt;br /&gt;não fala que me ama, que isso é muito pesado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Já viu a grossura do Aurélio? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;O de verdade o grandão. Já viu? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;E você quer botar isso aonde? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;No meu peito?&lt;br /&gt;Sei da instabilidade de todas essas palavras e tenho muito medo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Por isso acredito em atitudes,mas elas nunca vem..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;E as cicatrizes do silêncio são pra sempre...&lt;br /&gt;Silêncio é tudo que não teve coragem de ser&lt;br /&gt;ou quando nada mais é preciso.&lt;br /&gt;Silêncio exige presença.&lt;br /&gt;E é a lingua do vento&lt;br /&gt;vento que vai arrastando&lt;br /&gt;as coisas pra poder falar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-130073110424942303?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/130073110424942303/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=130073110424942303' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/130073110424942303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/130073110424942303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-peso-do-amor.html' title='O peso do Amor...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sld-lNy878I/AAAAAAAAAz4/hFMYwOJURPw/s72-c/4872225ai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-2944992910319201092</id><published>2009-07-09T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:58:34.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>É...O que é...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SlYsSYCoJlI/AAAAAAAAAzw/-YSm3u0_cWc/s1600-h/televison.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356517501006521938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SlYsSYCoJlI/AAAAAAAAAzw/-YSm3u0_cWc/s320/televison.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Acontece... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;e faz parte da vida que de repente uma crença profunda não faça mais sentido.&lt;br /&gt;Que se questione valores…&lt;br /&gt;cada um tem a sua razao. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;e você a sua... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;mesmo que frágil.&lt;br /&gt;Uma paixão pode estraçalhar com o que você chama de sua personalidade.&lt;br /&gt;e você descobrir que diamante é uma coisa interna feita de dúvidas.&lt;br /&gt;sentimentos, a maioria das vezes, são incompreensíveis, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;mas a teia de acontecimentos da vida, da nossa vida, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;nos faz entender estes sentimentos como nossos.&lt;br /&gt;assim como uma aranha deve sentir o seu próprio gosto pegajoso ( gosto e teia são invisiveis)&lt;br /&gt;uma pessoa inteligente pode nos explicar como a vida é concreta para um tipo de vento&lt;br /&gt;e outra nos explicar outra concretude...&lt;br /&gt;as duas tem razão e a multiplicidade nos joga num abismo.&lt;br /&gt;pessoas tem abismos entulhados dos abismos dos outros na tentativa de entender alguma coisa.&lt;br /&gt;E assim nos relacionamos...&lt;br /&gt;cafe, chopp, vinho,musica, sorrisos... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;alguém que liga inesperadamente de saudade…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;e a gente vai empurrando, rateando a vida assim,&lt;br /&gt;mesmo sem saber andar.&lt;br /&gt;nada disso aconteceu agora&lt;br /&gt;sou apenas algo móvel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;sem tristeza ou ilusão...&lt;br /&gt;só constato que vou perder todas as minhas casas de uma vez...&lt;br /&gt;e com certeza eu enfrentaria tudo isso como uma mulher forte, idiota e capaz.&lt;br /&gt;Qual a diferença dos que fogem de mim e dos que simplesmente não lembram que eu existo?&lt;br /&gt;você diz, Talvez os que fogem gostam de mais de você.&lt;br /&gt;Não, eu perguntei qual é a diferença para MIM.&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;A ausência é a mesma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Ficamos em silêncio por um tempo, pensávamos a mesma coisa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Que ela parece tanto com você, por alguma razão! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Comentamos então que tememos que você seja igual a ela, incapaz de ter verdadeira intimidade com outro, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;por que muitas das coisas que ela, você disse. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;E diz ainda, que não queremos que também acabe com estas perguntas, sem respostas, ou sempre numa busca sem fim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;E que talvez seja uma busca infundada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;E podemos estar enganadas, completamente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;E chegamos mesmo a dizer que Se estivermos certos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Se... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Ainda que uma pequena parcela disso seja verdade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Nos falta coragem pra assumir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;o que nunca tivemos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;PS:Três pontinhos, então...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;três pontinhos é isso ai… é a vida, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;o biscoito de chocolate, o que a gente esqueceu de fazer, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;é malicia, esperança, futuro… &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;é o não-final...&lt;br /&gt;A única coisa que os três pontinhos deixam claro é a incerteza.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-2944992910319201092?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/2944992910319201092/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=2944992910319201092' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2944992910319201092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2944992910319201092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/07/eo-que-e.html' title='É...O que é...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SlYsSYCoJlI/AAAAAAAAAzw/-YSm3u0_cWc/s72-c/televison.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-7641000549082029556</id><published>2009-07-07T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T09:36:19.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>QUASE AMORES...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SlN3-CPikAI/AAAAAAAAAzo/KKC8byJnU3g/s1600-h/coracao_partido1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355756289511297026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 245px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SlN3-CPikAI/AAAAAAAAAzo/KKC8byJnU3g/s320/coracao_partido1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;As pessoas de um modo geral, passam a vida toda em busca de um amor...&lt;br /&gt;Raramente você encontra alguém que afirme ter encontrado...&lt;br /&gt;Talvez por não saber o que é o amor...&lt;br /&gt;Outras pelo medo de sofrer em função do que esse amor pode causar...&lt;br /&gt;Outras por puro egoísmo...&lt;br /&gt;Insegurança...&lt;br /&gt;Por acreditar que dividir é perder...&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que mais me instiga saber, é o que leva alguem a alimentar sentimentos, que não serão correspondidos?&lt;br /&gt;Seria um troféu pro ego, ou apenas um sarcasmo cruel?&lt;br /&gt;Passamos a ter o legado de viver eternamente os “quase amores”...&lt;br /&gt;Caminhamos por caminhos em busca de algo...&lt;br /&gt;Alguém que nos, faça sentir o ar...&lt;br /&gt;Que mereça e queira carregar tudo o que você tem pra dar...&lt;br /&gt;Que viva ao mesmo tempo um único sentimento...&lt;br /&gt;Acredito que amores reais, se constroem em amizades sinceras...&lt;br /&gt;Um edifício não é construído sobre o nada:&lt;br /&gt;os materiais utilizados podem apoiar-se em estruturas sólidas,  já constuídas anteriormente;&lt;br /&gt;são montados andaimes que permitem adaptar-se e subir até o ponto mais alto já constuido.&lt;br /&gt;Depois de pronto, o edifício estará lá pronto pra morar, mas com a flexibilidade de ser&lt;br /&gt;reformado sempre que necessário.&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes acreditamos ter escolhido o lugar ideal pra contruir nosso edifício...&lt;br /&gt;O bairro mais lindo, mais alegre, mais tranquilo, enfim...&lt;br /&gt;Quando começamos a construir a base, o chão sede...&lt;br /&gt;E você queria tanto a quele edifício, na quele lugar, que ñ acredita ter que sair e produrar um&lt;br /&gt;outro bairro...&lt;br /&gt;As vezes o chão sede com o edifício quese pronto...&lt;br /&gt;Escolhas...&lt;br /&gt;Caminhos...&lt;br /&gt;O fato é quando pegamos outro caminho, estamos com outro objetivo...&lt;br /&gt;O de viver “quase amores”...&lt;br /&gt;Ou arriscar um grande amor...&lt;br /&gt;Qual edifício você vai querer construir?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS: Estou no jogo, embora odeie jogos..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mas é bom que saiba...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;meu peão é flexivel, mas não é de borracha...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É feito de material duro...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E ao mesmo tempo frágil...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se quebra fácil... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas ele sempre vai estar em alguma estante... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mesmo que aos pedaços!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E isso já não é uma escolha minha porque o jogo é seu...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-7641000549082029556?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/7641000549082029556/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=7641000549082029556' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7641000549082029556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7641000549082029556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/07/quase-amores.html' title='QUASE AMORES...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SlN3-CPikAI/AAAAAAAAAzo/KKC8byJnU3g/s72-c/coracao_partido1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-4228363087567540403</id><published>2009-07-02T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T08:55:30.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RANHURAS...UMA ESPÉCIE DE MARCAS...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkzYVz_ZBtI/AAAAAAAAAzg/8LCOrl5iFkM/s1600-h/qqqq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353891926281619154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkzYVz_ZBtI/AAAAAAAAAzg/8LCOrl5iFkM/s320/qqqq.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;A singularidade do meu ser é real e inexata, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;áspera como mãos calejadas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Emanando tormentos absolutos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;tempestuosos pensamentos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Redigidos por um escrita infantil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Procuro existir à partir de conceitos almenjados,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Sem dar linearidade ao que faço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;O saber não é meu, é de quem busca vorazmente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;É essa força que falta em mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;De tanto me ocultar, são sei dizer o que penso, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;o que faço...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Deixo o sol bater na minha face neutra e calada, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Tento amenizar um pouco a falta do que eu sou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Eu quero ser o que sou, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;desde que seja mais do que fui e menos que serei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Desde que tenha mais do que tive e menos do que terei...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;O amor, sozinho, não tem a força que imagina... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Ouvir aos outros é o melhor remédio ou o pior veneno... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;A gente nunca conhece uma pessoa de verdade, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;afinal gastamos uma vida inteira para conhecer a nós mesmos... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;O "nunca mais" nunca se cumpre, o "para sempre" SEMPRE acaba... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Vou sempre me surpreender, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;seja com os outros ou comigo; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;vou cair e levantar milhões de vezes e ainda não vou ter aprendido tudo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;PS:Não é necessário mostrar a beleza aos cegos. Nem dizer a verdade aos surdos. Mas jamais minta para quem te escuta e NÃO decepcione aos olhos de quem te vê.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-4228363087567540403?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/4228363087567540403/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=4228363087567540403' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4228363087567540403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4228363087567540403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/07/ranhurasuma-especie-de-marcas.html' title='RANHURAS...UMA ESPÉCIE DE MARCAS...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkzYVz_ZBtI/AAAAAAAAAzg/8LCOrl5iFkM/s72-c/qqqq.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-9162802650830037610</id><published>2009-06-30T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T13:34:05.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Entre Pontos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Skp2dBvMscI/AAAAAAAAAzY/YWOj4OR9KqY/s1600-h/dois-pontos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353221348137939394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Skp2dBvMscI/AAAAAAAAAzY/YWOj4OR9KqY/s320/dois-pontos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Chega de ficar quebrando a cara com os velhos erros de sempre. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quero cometer erros novos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;passar por apertos diferentes, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;experimentar situações desconhecidas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;sair da rotina e do lugar comum. preciso crescer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Chega de saber a saída e ficar parada na porta, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ensaiando os passos sem nunca entrar na estrada, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;esperando que me venha o que eu mais preciso encontrar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Se eu tiver que sofrer, será por sentimentos reais, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;nunca mais por males imaginários, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;preocupações com coisas que jamais acontecerão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Chega de Planejar o futuro e tropeçar no presente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Chega de pensar demais e fazer de menos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Chega desses intermináveis conflitos que me fazem adiar para nunca a minha decisão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A vida é festa é carnaval...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;E o mundo é mais colorido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Vou me entregar nos braços de quem quiser me levar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Comemorar com meus amigos, vou aproveitar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Curtir a vida e os momentos que deixei passar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;tô de peito aberto pra quem quer me amar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;O que sofri e chorei passou já era.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Meu amor seu amor virou novela...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Brincou de amar me perdeu, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;agora eu sou mais eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS:Não quero uma vida pequena, um amor pequeno, um alegria que caiba dentro da bolsa. Eu quero mais que isso. Quero o que não vejo. Quero o que não entendo. Quero muito e quero sem fim. Não cresci pra viver mais ou menos, nasci com dois pares de asas, vou aonde eu me levar. Por isso, não me venha com superfícies, nada raso me satisfaz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-9162802650830037610?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/9162802650830037610/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=9162802650830037610' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/9162802650830037610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/9162802650830037610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/entre-pontos.html' title='Entre Pontos...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Skp2dBvMscI/AAAAAAAAAzY/YWOj4OR9KqY/s72-c/dois-pontos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6000582887443989751</id><published>2009-06-28T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T18:53:30.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MEU SEGREDO...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkgedfeiQCI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/anViv9K5aXA/s1600-h/cadeado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352561649144447010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 305px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkgedfeiQCI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/anViv9K5aXA/s320/cadeado.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Encosta o teu ouvido aqui que é pra eu te contar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Vai ser nosso segredo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não vou fugir daquilo tudo que sonhei em vão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Saiba que ainda chego...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Mas do que sou capaz?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Fiz promessas demais pra saber...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Quantos quilos a mais de conversas banais vamos ter?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Somos simples mortais inocentes demais pra entender.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Quer saber do que mais? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Quero ter minha paz pra viver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Será que é tão difícil de entender?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Acredito em sonhos, não em utopia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Mas quando sonho, sonho alto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Estou aqui é pra viver, cair, aprender, levantar e seguir em frente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Sou isso hoje... Amanhã, já me reinventei. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Reinvento-me sempre que a vida pede um pouco mais de mim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Sou complexa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Me perco... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;E quando necessário, enlouqueço e deixo rolar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não me dôo pela metade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Sou boba, mas não sou burra. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Ingênua, mas não santa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Sou pessoa de riso fácil...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;e choro também!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;PS: Planejava fazer o batente o dia inteiro. Pra lembrar que estica o caminho.Quem manda no chão?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6000582887443989751?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6000582887443989751/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6000582887443989751' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6000582887443989751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6000582887443989751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/meu-segredo.html' title='MEU SEGREDO...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkgedfeiQCI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/anViv9K5aXA/s72-c/cadeado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-2153757307481981705</id><published>2009-06-25T07:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T08:00:30.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O JOGO...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkOQ_a-rXKI/AAAAAAAAAzI/Mxj6iyqHI2A/s1600-h/fghbjnmk.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351280201494650018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 197px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkOQ_a-rXKI/AAAAAAAAAzI/Mxj6iyqHI2A/s320/fghbjnmk.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Os jogadores entram em campo...&lt;br /&gt;Ambos não sabem as regras do jogo...&lt;br /&gt;É dado o sinal, eles correm atrás do que acreditam...&lt;br /&gt;É falta!&lt;br /&gt;Então um jogador se posiciona pra chutar á gol...&lt;br /&gt;O outro se psiciona pra defender...&lt;br /&gt;E esse chuta- defende vai até o fim do primeiro tempo...&lt;br /&gt;Então é dado um intervalo, para que os jogadores pensem em outra forma de marcar ponto.&lt;br /&gt;Começa o segundo tempo...&lt;br /&gt;Os jogadores não se movem...&lt;br /&gt;Não sabem o que fazer...&lt;br /&gt;Já estão cansados...&lt;br /&gt;Querem tirar as chuteras, tomar um banho morno e ver TV.&lt;br /&gt;E então...&lt;br /&gt;O jogo acaba...&lt;br /&gt;Mera semelhança?&lt;br /&gt;O amor não pode ser um jogo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Seja ele qual for...&lt;br /&gt;No amor não tem vencedor...&lt;br /&gt;No amor não se disputa pontos...&lt;br /&gt;Se soma junto...&lt;br /&gt;Se corre junto...&lt;br /&gt;Se quer um único placar...&lt;br /&gt;Então a platéia aplaude...&lt;br /&gt;O fim de mais um amistoso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;E o campo volta a ficar vazio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;PS: Definitivamente cansada de gente que fala uma coisa e faz outra!...Não sei jogar...não gosto de jogos...definitivamente não tolero hipocresia!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-2153757307481981705?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/2153757307481981705/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=2153757307481981705' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2153757307481981705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2153757307481981705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-jogo.html' title='O JOGO...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkOQ_a-rXKI/AAAAAAAAAzI/Mxj6iyqHI2A/s72-c/fghbjnmk.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-9200194934210606724</id><published>2009-06-23T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:30:48.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SILÊNCIO....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkDzEosCo7I/AAAAAAAAAzA/YRmD_PNBuFY/s1600-h/DSC_0200piyopi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350543618283316146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 192px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkDzEosCo7I/AAAAAAAAAzA/YRmD_PNBuFY/s320/DSC_0200piyopi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As letras estão soltas no ar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As palavras não se formam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Uma respiração profunda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A lingua umedece os lábios...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A saliva desce a garganta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Um aceno...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Os olhos se fechem lentamente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;E assim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;O silêncio se fez....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: NO FIM É SÓ VOCÊ CONTRA VOCÊ MESMO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-9200194934210606724?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/9200194934210606724/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=9200194934210606724' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/9200194934210606724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/9200194934210606724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/silencio.html' title='SILÊNCIO....'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SkDzEosCo7I/AAAAAAAAAzA/YRmD_PNBuFY/s72-c/DSC_0200piyopi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-8002926500968782571</id><published>2009-06-21T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T19:38:49.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah...o tempo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sj5LO1iekkI/AAAAAAAAAyw/ocfg3mZJIZM/s1600-h/rj+1142.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349796125624668738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sj5LO1iekkI/AAAAAAAAAyw/ocfg3mZJIZM/s320/rj+1142.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Quanto tempo você já viveu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Sempre que te vejo eu posso dizer o quanto vivi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Lembro-me da quela noite, fria, umida, de lua cheia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Quando te vi, não te enxerguei...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mas ouvi sua voz delicada oferecendo-me champanhe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Um sorriso maroto, com uma covinha do lado direito da bochecha...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Apartir dali, eu que pensava nunca mais me apaixonar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Estava hipinotizada, entregue por um tempo minimo de 2 horas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Fiz coisas que não havia feito por ninguem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Locuras que só você me instigava fazer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Sofria com a saudade, mas trasbordava felicidade quando te via...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;E o tempo passava...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;segundos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;minutos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;horas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;dias...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;meses...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;anos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Hoje...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;O tempo passou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Levou o brilho do olhar ao te ver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;O batimento acelerado do coração quando você me tocava...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;a paixão fumegante que eu sentia por ti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Com o tempo se perdeu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;A distancia também ajudou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Ou foi a gente que mudou?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Guardo você nas mais lindas histórias da minha vida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;E o tempo pode passar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Que eu não vou te esquecer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Não tenho mais medo de me perder...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Por alguem que ainda posso conhecer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;E isso conquistei com você...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Então vamos colocar nossas meias...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;deitar pra ver um filme...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;dormir abraçadinho...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;que amanhã é outro dia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;e temos muito tempo ainda pra viver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;PS: Por vezes o cansaço me faz querer parar. Sensação de que já vivi mais do que meu coração suporta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-8002926500968782571?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/8002926500968782571/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=8002926500968782571' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8002926500968782571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8002926500968782571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/aho-tempo.html' title='Ah...o tempo'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sj5LO1iekkI/AAAAAAAAAyw/ocfg3mZJIZM/s72-c/rj+1142.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-2125321994932553595</id><published>2009-06-19T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T19:12:49.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu passáro...meu ninho...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjxEm9FUrZI/AAAAAAAAAyo/s6xaaB0blLU/s1600-h/passaro-877.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349225893431913874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjxEm9FUrZI/AAAAAAAAAyo/s6xaaB0blLU/s320/passaro-877.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Sou apenas mais uma flor no teu jardim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Há um passarinho pousado em mim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Ainda assim enraizada nesta terra seca, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;sem água, sem lágrimas, sem nada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Em meio a outras cores e perfumes do teu harém de flores. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Mas as tuas dores não vêem assim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Enterrado até a cintura nesta terra escura nem caminha, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;nem minha, nem tua, nem vem, nem vinha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Nunca quis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Serei cortada, serei salva pelos olhos d´água, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;pelo pássaro com bico, com afeto, sem medo, sem teto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Voarei ensolarada, roubada deste jardim em que me plantei sem alimento, sem cuidado, sem acalento. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Me deixo, me largo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tu não me quer, não cuida. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Estarei à salvo quando chegar a chuva! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;A chave do jardim do amor amado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-2125321994932553595?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/2125321994932553595/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=2125321994932553595' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2125321994932553595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2125321994932553595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/meu-passaromeu-ninho.html' title='Meu passáro...meu ninho...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjxEm9FUrZI/AAAAAAAAAyo/s6xaaB0blLU/s72-c/passaro-877.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1489697204002737988</id><published>2009-06-18T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T21:04:19.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FRAGMENTOS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjsOI-_8O3I/AAAAAAAAAyg/OrBDHL_GbDQ/s1600-h/87-550x366.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348884529945525106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjsOI-_8O3I/AAAAAAAAAyg/OrBDHL_GbDQ/s320/87-550x366.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Culpa: substantivo de bater nos peitos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Aquilo que a gente faz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Coisa que as mulheres têm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Meus peitos, os mais sinceros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Só é possível atravessar o deserto se você se concentrar num outro lugar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;numa outra pessoa; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;só assim se tornará insensível às intempéries, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;ao cansaço, às intolerâncias do corpo e às dúvidas da mente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Quero, um dia, poder dizer às pessoas que nada foi em vão... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Que o amor existe, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;que vale a pena se doar às amizades a às pessoas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;que a vida é bela sim, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;e que eu sempre dei o melhor de mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;e que valeu a pena.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Caminhos que se cruzam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Olhar mútuamente curioso. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Assim aconteceu num distante ano, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;e muitos instantes aconteceram. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Muitas lembranças, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;que ainda hoje são o mótim para as nossas deliciosas horas de risadas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Risadas das quais estarão sempre vivas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;apenas um clik e lá está você. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Mas nem só de risadas se construio esse carinho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Raiva, ódio, amor, desprezo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;saudade (sim, nossos olhares ficam meses sem se ver) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;e todos os sentimentos de um amor verdadeiro, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;uma amizade intensa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Assim vivemos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;procurando nosso espaço, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;sonhando e dividindo os sonhos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;As vezes o boicote. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Faz parte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Quando bate aquela imensidão, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;aquela vontade de sentir-se um párticula fundamental, não dá outra... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;você invade todos os espaços. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Existem situações que não se explicam, apenas são lembradas...&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;PS:Eu sou uma pergunta de certo. Uma pergunta que não deseja ser respondida. Que também não se contenta com as respostas porque acha tudo um tanto quanto relativo. Meus braços são por demais pequenos para o mundo que eu quero abraçar. E meu coração é por demais tortuoso para não causar espanto.&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/5728123282729694992-1489697204002737988?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1489697204002737988/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1489697204002737988' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1489697204002737988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1489697204002737988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/fragmentos.html' title='FRAGMENTOS'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjsOI-_8O3I/AAAAAAAAAyg/OrBDHL_GbDQ/s72-c/87-550x366.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-7887089399375985788</id><published>2009-06-16T09:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T10:29:21.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu lugar...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjfWRcrURkI/AAAAAAAAAyY/qKouzl31YmU/s1600-h/jevgenia_EBrzozowska12_renamed_1495.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347978677769750082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjfWRcrURkI/AAAAAAAAAyY/qKouzl31YmU/s320/jevgenia_EBrzozowska12_renamed_1495.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Anoiteceu....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Meu quarto escureceu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Meu corpo adormeceu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;E num sonho você apareceu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;E respondeu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;O que eu não perguntei, mas você percebeu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Então correspondeu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;E uma surpresa aconteceu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Num beijo você sedeu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Em meus braços se recolheu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;E então percebeu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Que todo o meu amor é seu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;E eu nunca mais quis despertar, desse sonho que me comoveu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;PS:Tem horas que tudo se cala e o silêncio fala mais do que qualquer palavra. E é possível entender coisas que, são impossíveis de serem ditas, explicadas... Sinto tudo no meu peito, o mundo inteiro talvez... E você nunca está perto o suficiente para entender.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-7887089399375985788?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/7887089399375985788/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=7887089399375985788' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7887089399375985788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7887089399375985788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/meu-lugar.html' title='Meu lugar...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjfWRcrURkI/AAAAAAAAAyY/qKouzl31YmU/s72-c/jevgenia_EBrzozowska12_renamed_1495.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-9180947259632292052</id><published>2009-06-15T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T07:35:41.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu caminho...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjZbWC2MUeI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/qOQXESWwWb8/s1600-h/esperanca_imagem.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347562041828463074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjZbWC2MUeI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/qOQXESWwWb8/s320/esperanca_imagem.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Eu ouvi uma voz ecoar...&lt;br /&gt;E numa fração de segundos alguma coisa mudar...&lt;br /&gt;Mas não era o que a voz resolveu falar...&lt;br /&gt;O que me fez pensar...&lt;br /&gt;Mudar...&lt;br /&gt;Foi as reações adversas que o veneno pode causar...&lt;br /&gt;Minha maquiagem se fez borrar...&lt;br /&gt;Meu estomago ficou comprimido, me faltou o ar...&lt;br /&gt;Não há analgésico,ou antidoto que faça passar...&lt;br /&gt;Esse mal estar...&lt;br /&gt;Por momentos pensei em não pensar...&lt;br /&gt;Sair, beber, passear...&lt;br /&gt;Talvez fosse o lugar...&lt;br /&gt;Senti que precisava acreditar...&lt;br /&gt;Ainda há pessoas que posso confiar...&lt;br /&gt;Definitivamente não era o lugar...&lt;br /&gt;Ah...&lt;br /&gt;Essa eterna mania de potencializar...&lt;br /&gt;Intensificar...&lt;br /&gt;De criar...&lt;br /&gt;Criar,expectativas, em coisas que não vão mudar...&lt;br /&gt;Resolvi não mais alimentar...&lt;br /&gt;Deixar passar...&lt;br /&gt;Meu estomago precisa melhorar...&lt;br /&gt;Pra que eu possa recepcionar...&lt;br /&gt;Alguém que pode vir para ficar...&lt;br /&gt;Que me faça novamente acreditar...&lt;br /&gt;Que eu posso me doar...&lt;br /&gt;Sem mais medo de gostar...&lt;br /&gt;E não vou considerar...&lt;br /&gt;O que alguém, sem pensar...&lt;br /&gt;Pode me causar...&lt;br /&gt;Por essa eterna mania de acreditar...&lt;br /&gt;Que as coisas devem sempre melhorar...&lt;br /&gt;E não de piorar...&lt;br /&gt;Vou desenhar...&lt;br /&gt;O meu caminho pintar...&lt;br /&gt;Com lápis colorido, para alegrar...&lt;br /&gt;E assim o meu estomago acalmar...&lt;br /&gt;Dormir, produzir, acordar...&lt;br /&gt;Chega de sonhar...&lt;br /&gt;Não gosto de jogar...&lt;br /&gt;Mas reverencio, quem acha que pode ganhar...&lt;br /&gt;Nesse jogo de azar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Onde o risco de perder, é maior do que o de ganhar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Não se pode ganhar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Quando se joga sozinho, bom mesmo é compartilhar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;E ter sempre alguem pra abraçar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-9180947259632292052?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/9180947259632292052/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=9180947259632292052' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/9180947259632292052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/9180947259632292052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/meu-caminho.html' title='Meu caminho...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjZbWC2MUeI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/qOQXESWwWb8/s72-c/esperanca_imagem.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-7061104911120812187</id><published>2009-06-14T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T13:40:26.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DEFINIÇÃO.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjVAKKftNcI/AAAAAAAAAxY/FAZA4prFgRk/s1600-h/kahnhaabh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347250675932542402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjVAKKftNcI/AAAAAAAAAxY/FAZA4prFgRk/s320/kahnhaabh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;... acho q do que eu conheço,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; tem muita coisa bacana ainda por conhecer ,&lt;br /&gt;do que eu vejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;(dois pontos)&lt;br /&gt;uma pessoa linda,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; super comprometida com a família,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; que tem caráter,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; amiga,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; engraçada mas que fala sério nas horas que é preciso falar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;alguém que tem um amor gigante pra dar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;mas que a vida (acredito eu) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;não colocou alguém que mereça esse amor no teu caminho...&lt;br /&gt;vejo maturidade, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;mas ao mesmo tempo dificuldade para lidar com aquilo que sente, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;conforme a intensidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; vejo vida!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;vejo luz,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; vejo prosperidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; (mas desde que tu olhe um pouco mais pra ti)&lt;br /&gt;vejo alguém que precisa falar mais, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;trancar menos, expôr mais ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;o teu feeling e tudo o que pensa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;sinto uma coisa muito boa quando to perto de ti, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;me sinto segura..sabia?&lt;br /&gt;tu me passa isso ...&lt;br /&gt;...é quando a gente ta longe, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;que a gente vê a importancia das pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;eu vejo um poquinho além, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;lembra...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;volta e meia tu vem no meu pensamento&lt;br /&gt;e nao é de graça.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;POR CLARISSA SANTOS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;PS: Alguém enfim, arriscou me definir...e eu gostei muito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-7061104911120812187?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/7061104911120812187/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=7061104911120812187' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7061104911120812187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7061104911120812187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/definicao.html' title='DEFINIÇÃO.'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjVAKKftNcI/AAAAAAAAAxY/FAZA4prFgRk/s72-c/kahnhaabh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-3829449768090471419</id><published>2009-06-12T09:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T15:47:40.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ERA UMA VEZ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjKF1xuKZVI/AAAAAAAAAwo/jOdvY4yikiU/s1600-h/10150machucado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346482866568717650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjKF1xuKZVI/AAAAAAAAAwo/jOdvY4yikiU/s320/10150machucado.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Era uma vez um medo que voou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;E eu sem saber porquê fui atrás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;E ainda a vi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Esconder-se de ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Eu fui devagarinho com medo de falhar, não fosse esse o caminho certo para te encontrar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Fui descobrindo devagar cada gesto teu... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Fui aprendendo a procurar por entre sonhos meus ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Eu fui assim chegando sem entender porquê...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Já foram tantas vezes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;É um abrigo pra voltar, ou um mar pra me perder?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Lá fora o vento nem sempre sabe a liberdade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;A gente finge mas sabe que não é verdade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Foge ao vazio enquanto brinda, dança e salta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;eu trago-te comigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;e sinto tanto a tua falta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Mas a falta só se faz, quando já esteve presente..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Estranho conflito vigente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Quero voltar, mas estar aqui é coerente..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Eu abri a porta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Para o vento entrar arrebatando a mente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Feliz do loucos, onde a razão é inexistente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;PS: Dia alegre, com compressas de gelo no coração, pra evitar o inxaço, importante é que ele tá aqui batendo incansávelmente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;"Amigo, me leva contigo pra perto da lua,me leva depressa que ja vem a chuva, não me deixa dormir pois não quero mais sonhar..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-3829449768090471419?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/3829449768090471419/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=3829449768090471419' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/3829449768090471419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/3829449768090471419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/era-uma-vez.html' title='ERA UMA VEZ...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjKF1xuKZVI/AAAAAAAAAwo/jOdvY4yikiU/s72-c/10150machucado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-4156959522945659109</id><published>2009-06-10T11:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T15:33:09.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Escolhas de uma Vida...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjACEfH7NRI/AAAAAAAAAwg/Ls1ASwPfuE0/s1600-h/rio2009l+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345775033786250514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjACEfH7NRI/AAAAAAAAAwg/Ls1ASwPfuE0/s320/rio2009l+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; (Santos Dumont- RJ)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Desde pequenos aprendemos que, ao fazer uma opção, estamos descartando outra, e de opção em opção vamos tecendo essa teia que se convencionou chamar "minha vida". Não é tarefa fácil. No momento em que se escolhe ser médico, se está abrindo mão de ser piloto de avião. Ao optar pela vida de atriz, será quase impossível conciliar com a arquitetura. No amor, a mesma coisa: namora-se um, outro, e mais outro, num excitante vaivém de romances. Até que chega um momento em que é preciso decidir entre passar o resto da vida sem compromisso formal com alguém, apenas vivenciando amores e deixando-os ir embora quando se findam, ou casar, e através do casamento fundar uma microempresa, com direito a casa própria, orçamento doméstico e responsabilidades.As duas opções têm seus prós e contras: viver sem laços e viver com laços...Escolha: beber até cair ou virar vegetariano e budista? Todas as alternativas são válidas, mas há um preço a pagar por elas.Quem dera pudéssemos ser uma pessoa diferente a cada 6 meses, ser casados de segunda a sexta e solteiros nos finais de semana, ter filhos quando se está bem-disposto e não tê-los quando se está cansado. Por isso é tão importante o auto conhecimento. Por isso é necessário ler muito, ouvir os outros, estagiar em várias tribos, prestar atenção ao que acontece em volta e não cultivar preconceitos. Nossas escolhas não podem ser apenas intuitivas, elas têm que refletir o que a gente é. Lógico que se deve reavaliar decisões e trocar de caminho: Ninguém é o mesmo para sempre.Mas que essas mudanças de rota venham para acrescentar, e não para anular a vivência do caminho anteriormente percorrido. A estrada é longa e o tempo é curto. Não deixe de fazer nada que queira, mas tenha responsabilidade e maturidade para arcar com as conseqüências destas ações.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Nunca acreditei em verdades únicas. Nem nas minhas, nem nas dos outros. Acredito que todas as escolas, todas as teorias podem ser úteis em algum lugar, num dado momento. Mas descobri que é impossível viver sem uma apaixonada e absoluta identificação com um ponto de vista. No entanto, à medida que o tempo passa, e nós mudamos, e o mundo se modifica, os alvos variam e o ponto de vista se desloca. Num retrospecto de muitos anos de ensaios publicados e idéias proferidas em vários lugares, em tantas ocasiões diferentes, uma coisa me impressiona por sua consistência. Para que um ponto de vista seja útil, temos que assumi-lo totalmente e defendê-lo até a morte. Mas, ao mesmo tempo, uma voz interior nos sussurra: "Não o leve muito a sério. Mantenha-o firmemente, abandone-o sem constrangimento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;PS: Por isso só me arrependo do que não fiz..entre mentiras absolutamente verdadeiras descubro um pouco de vida em cada instante e me inebrio frente ao olhos e ao silêncio do corpo que não pode dizer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;mãos entrelaçadas na manhã que aos poucos começa a delinear um novo dia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-4156959522945659109?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/4156959522945659109/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=4156959522945659109' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4156959522945659109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4156959522945659109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/escolhas-de-uma-vida.html' title='Escolhas de uma Vida...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SjACEfH7NRI/AAAAAAAAAwg/Ls1ASwPfuE0/s72-c/rio2009l+023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6603529106698496831</id><published>2009-06-08T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T15:03:46.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SOL &amp; LUA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Si2KWMyB23I/AAAAAAAAAwY/MVKGLKVxF8k/s1600-h/Lua_imagem_falsa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345080446751464306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Si2KWMyB23I/AAAAAAAAAwY/MVKGLKVxF8k/s320/Lua_imagem_falsa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;O sol ainda estava lá, quando a lua já apontava do outro lado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;tímida, ainda pequeninha, mas feliz de poder ver o sol...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;mesmo que rapidinho...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Ela sorriu pra ele...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E no fundo ela esperava um sorriso gigante, que o sol se inflasse...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Ele apenas deu um sorriso maroto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Por minutos a lua sentiu friu, o sol não aqueceu aquele momento...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Mas ela entendia que aquele sorriso era o que o sol podia dar-lhe naquele momento...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Então ela jurou não esperar mais que ele aquecesse...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Outro planeta haveria de fazer isso por ele...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;E mesmo querendo ver o Sol por mais um tempo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;A lua se foi, deixando pra trás a memoria do sol...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Ele agora fazia parte só das recordações de um bom sentimento...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: Do alto a Lua enxerga tudo pequeno, mas ñ desmerece a grandeza que há em cada um que sabe que ela sempre estará lá...E no seu interior, reza para que o sol se sencontre...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6603529106698496831?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6603529106698496831/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6603529106698496831' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6603529106698496831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6603529106698496831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/sol-lua.html' title='SOL &amp; LUA'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Si2KWMyB23I/AAAAAAAAAwY/MVKGLKVxF8k/s72-c/Lua_imagem_falsa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6449140255157520258</id><published>2009-06-03T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T09:54:43.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE END...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SiaqQS2sZFI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/6BW1owjgP0g/s1600-h/rj+1210.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343145204837540946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SiaqQS2sZFI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/6BW1owjgP0g/s320/rj+1210.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Você não sabe o que é amor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;nem tão pouco, paixão...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Se soubesse de verdade, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;não maltratava meu coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Parece beija-flor que vai de boca em boca por aí...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;E suga todo meu amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Agora não tô mais disposto a te dar meu mel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Procure logo um novo, alguém pra te levar pro céu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Você seguiu outros caminhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Com sua vida de aventuras você vai seguir!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Voa beija-flor, vai dar seu calor pra quem não teconhece.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sai da minha vida, busque um outro amor, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Você não vai mais sugar do meu amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Vai sentir o amargo de outras bocas, lembrando meu sabor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Não pára de chover!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;E eu preciso do sol pra lembrar do calor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Se eu te magoei,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Desculpa estou aprendendo o que é amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Nas noites mais escuras...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Falta de carinho rima com nova paixão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6449140255157520258?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6449140255157520258/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6449140255157520258' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6449140255157520258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6449140255157520258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/end.html' title='THE END...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SiaqQS2sZFI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/6BW1owjgP0g/s72-c/rj+1210.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1436914512859684087</id><published>2009-06-01T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T19:40:39.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minha estrela...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SiSQUOaTGkI/AAAAAAAAAwI/ebuE855-fgs/s1600-h/rj+1214.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342553735108434498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SiSQUOaTGkI/AAAAAAAAAwI/ebuE855-fgs/s320/rj+1214.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Não há de ser nada, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;pois sei que a madrugada acaba, quando a lua se põe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O abraço de vampiro é o sorriso de um amigo e mais nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;A estrela que eu escolhi não cumpriu com meu pedido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;e hoje não a encontrei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Pois caiu no mar, e se apagou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Se souber nadar, faça-me o favor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O milagre que esperei nunca me aconteceu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Quem sabe é só você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Pra trazer o que já é meu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;PS:Brilha onde estiver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-1436914512859684087?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1436914512859684087/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1436914512859684087' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1436914512859684087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1436914512859684087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/06/minha-estrela.html' title='Minha estrela...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SiSQUOaTGkI/AAAAAAAAAwI/ebuE855-fgs/s72-c/rj+1214.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5014846865000125267</id><published>2009-05-31T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T10:35:11.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Noticias...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SiK9WgQ5F_I/AAAAAAAAAwA/ihEuiWTKzbk/s1600-h/hada_flor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342040302330386418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SiK9WgQ5F_I/AAAAAAAAAwA/ihEuiWTKzbk/s320/hada_flor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;O clima no meu planeta tem mudado bruscamente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;o que é estranho,porque não tem aquecimento global...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;talvez seja falta de calor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Tem feito friu aqui...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;eu realmente não gosto do friu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;eu queria poder viver no meu planeta e não sentir friu, mesmo que ele seja gelado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Ah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;eu queria tanta coisa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;e ao mesmo tempo, quase nada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Há algum tempo nasceu uma flor no meu planeta, dessas raras...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;por se tratar de algo tão raro,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;acho que não soube cuidar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;ela mudou de cor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;ainda vive, mas tá monocromática, não sei o que fazer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt; quase ninguem sabe como posso deixa-la mais colorida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;talvez ela não queira ter cores...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;confesso que já pensei em arranca-la do meu planeta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;com raíz, com tudo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;mas não saberia viver, sem te-la por perto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;mesmo que na minha imaginação...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;mas mesmona minha imaginação,ela só resitiria se continuasse sendo real...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Hoje conclui que faço mal a ela...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;pode ser minha presença que a deixa assim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Não quero ve-la assim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;vou deixar o meu planeta, por um tempo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;pegar carona na asa da pomba, que durante essa carta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;andava freneticamente na aresta da janela...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;parecia que esperava, que eu chegasse até lá...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;então...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;algo sutilmente fez sentido...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;e eu percebi, que teria visitado essa flor, mesmo que por segundos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;teria valido a pena.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;como valeu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;PS: ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-5014846865000125267?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5014846865000125267/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5014846865000125267' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5014846865000125267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5014846865000125267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/05/flor-do-meu-planeta.html' title='Noticias...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SiK9WgQ5F_I/AAAAAAAAAwA/ihEuiWTKzbk/s72-c/hada_flor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-7264908184520596673</id><published>2009-05-25T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T19:46:33.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arroz e feijão</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/ShtX5PA2hQI/AAAAAAAAAvw/FklYEjSTZiE/s1600-h/feijao_arroz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339958423972119810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/ShtX5PA2hQI/AAAAAAAAAvw/FklYEjSTZiE/s320/feijao_arroz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Como arroz e feijão,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;é feita de grão em grão nossa felicidade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Como arroz e feijão a perfeita combinação...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Soma de duas metades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Como feijão e arroz que só se encontram depois de abandonar a embalagem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Mas como entender que os dois por serem feijão e arroz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Se encontram só de passagem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Me jogo da panela pra nela eu me perder...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Me sirvo a vontade... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;que vontade de te ver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;O dia do prato chegou é quando eu encontro você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Nem me lembro o que foi diferente!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Mas assim como veio acabou e quando eu penso em você...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Choro café e você chora leite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: saudades...hihi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-7264908184520596673?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/7264908184520596673/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=7264908184520596673' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7264908184520596673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7264908184520596673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/05/arroz-e-feijao.html' title='Arroz e feijão'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/ShtX5PA2hQI/AAAAAAAAAvw/FklYEjSTZiE/s72-c/feijao_arroz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5108277212486193767</id><published>2009-05-18T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T19:28:29.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tem?Não tem? ou terá?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/ShIZNd12nnI/AAAAAAAAAvo/YpPDAloOXEU/s1600-h/rj+1159.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337356227526958706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/ShIZNd12nnI/AAAAAAAAAvo/YpPDAloOXEU/s320/rj+1159.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não tem sol, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Nem solução,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não tem tempero no meu dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não faz mal se a tradição nos traduz outra alegria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não ter pressa dá a impressão de que a tarde virou tédio,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não tem bala, não tem bula meu remédio,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;E não tem cura...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Acho que me perdi numa excursão que fiz na tua certeza e na contradição...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Acho que me perdi na tua palavra, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não ter festa dá a impressão de que o mundo ficou sério.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não tem mal, nem maldição...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não tem sereno no meu dia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não tem sombra e assombração...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não tem disputa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Eu quero poder,capturar essa menina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Na minha mala tem saudade e saudação...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tem uma parte que não tinha...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Mas que se acomoda quietinha...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Lá no fundo do forro azul...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-5108277212486193767?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5108277212486193767/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5108277212486193767' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5108277212486193767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5108277212486193767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/05/temnao-tem-ou-tera.html' title='Tem?Não tem? ou terá?'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/ShIZNd12nnI/AAAAAAAAAvo/YpPDAloOXEU/s72-c/rj+1159.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6101431091997844674</id><published>2009-05-15T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T15:48:06.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'>É...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sg3w6AWJhtI/AAAAAAAAAvg/w6sD1nwYI98/s1600-h/rj+1204.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336186012819883730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sg3w6AWJhtI/AAAAAAAAAvg/w6sD1nwYI98/s320/rj+1204.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A crença de que os outros não deveriam nos ter tratado como o fizeram é, obviamente, um erro.&lt;br /&gt;Em vez de ficarmos com raiva da forma como fomos tratados, precisamos aprender a ver tal tratamento de outra perspectiva. Eles fizeram o que sabiam fazer, dadas as condições de suas vidas.&lt;br /&gt;Aprender a perdoar envolve aprender a corrigir as más interpretações que criamos com nossa própria visão das coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Quando compreendermos que somos nós que fazemos acontecer tudo que ocorre em nossa existência, então estaremos numa posição de saber que até fazemos os outros acontecerem em nossas vidas para termos a quem culpar.&lt;br /&gt;Quando tivermos nossos pensamentos claros, chegará ao ponto em que não será mais necessário praticar o perdão. Teremos percebido que a vida é uma série de acontecimentos que criamos ou atraimos para nós mesmos.&lt;br /&gt;Assim, perceberemos que não há nada a perdoar, porque não há nada a julgar e ninguém para culpar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6101431091997844674?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6101431091997844674/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6101431091997844674' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6101431091997844674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6101431091997844674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/05/e.html' title='É...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sg3w6AWJhtI/AAAAAAAAAvg/w6sD1nwYI98/s72-c/rj+1204.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6466636230482361103</id><published>2009-05-13T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T16:28:41.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CHEGA MAIS PERTO...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SgtXHSanZTI/AAAAAAAAAvY/hZbClCvoJG4/s1600-h/2126563.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335453966264657202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 186px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SgtXHSanZTI/AAAAAAAAAvY/hZbClCvoJG4/s320/2126563.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Chega mais perto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Olha fundo nos meus olhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;São olhos sem folêgo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Consegue ver?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Chega mais perto então... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Brincar de amizade eterna não é comigo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Eu sou urgente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Tu vai me desmontando aos poucos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Me deixando sem armas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Sem fala.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Quase núa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Posso esperar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Mas esperar cansa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;E não fala mais em ir embora amanhã. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Eu quero hoje. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;O futuro só interessa os fracos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Vamos ver o sol nascer e se pôr? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Aqui, alí ou em qualquer lugar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Só enquanto a lua reina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Chega mais perto, me diz o que é o sufoco que eu te mostro alguém afim de te &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;acompanhar e se o caso for de ir a praia, eu levo essa casa numa sacola..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6466636230482361103?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6466636230482361103/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6466636230482361103' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6466636230482361103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6466636230482361103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/05/chega-mais-perto.html' title='CHEGA MAIS PERTO...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SgtXHSanZTI/AAAAAAAAAvY/hZbClCvoJG4/s72-c/2126563.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1241539122931149636</id><published>2009-05-07T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T21:03:05.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A PPESSOA "REAL"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SgOsIZM_L9I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/gfkLLGZedVw/s1600-h/OgAAAEG5DHr18t3zgsC3pz8jHksmXui2paFGEyn3pv2Hvqk9Wk8g1wUaDaHeeRc4_8HEB0QBxR1vgFakFWoK9bC5ABEAm1T1UDUjHY42vkvsFQLuCIRSrOz9RenT.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333295643941089234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 178px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SgOsIZM_L9I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/gfkLLGZedVw/s320/OgAAAEG5DHr18t3zgsC3pz8jHksmXui2paFGEyn3pv2Hvqk9Wk8g1wUaDaHeeRc4_8HEB0QBxR1vgFakFWoK9bC5ABEAm1T1UDUjHY42vkvsFQLuCIRSrOz9RenT.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Na sociedade de hoje, temos dado ênfase à autenticidade. Falamos em colocar máscaras sobre a face de nosso "verdadeiro" EU e em representar papéis que disfarçam nossa pessoa rel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;A implicação disso é que, em algum lugar, dentro de você e de mim, está escondido o nosso EU real.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Supostamente, esse EU é uma realidade estática e estruturada e há momentos em que me sinto compelida a camuflá-lo. Talvez haja, alguma justificativa para essa maneira de falar, mas acredito que isso pode ser mais enganoso do que benéfico. Não há uma pessoa real, verdadeira e fixa dentro de você ou de mim, simplesmente porque ser uma pessoa implica sempre tornar-se uma pessoa, estar num processo. Ser uma pessoa é o que penso, julgo,sinto,valorizo,honro, estimo,amo,detesto, temo,desejo, espero, acredito e me comprometo com.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Estes são os aspectos que definem minha pessoa em processo de mudança constante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Experimentei mais a vida, encontrei novos sentimentos naqueles a quem amo, sofri, rezei e estou diferente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Aproxime-se de mim, então com um senso de descoberta; estude minha face, minhas mãos, minha voz e procure pelos sinais de mudança: é certo que mudei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;PS: Há em cada um de nós, além dos vários estados de ego, um EU ocultado e um EU deliberado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-1241539122931149636?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1241539122931149636/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1241539122931149636' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1241539122931149636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1241539122931149636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/05/ppessoa-real.html' title='A PPESSOA &quot;REAL&quot;'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SgOsIZM_L9I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/gfkLLGZedVw/s72-c/OgAAAEG5DHr18t3zgsC3pz8jHksmXui2paFGEyn3pv2Hvqk9Wk8g1wUaDaHeeRc4_8HEB0QBxR1vgFakFWoK9bC5ABEAm1T1UDUjHY42vkvsFQLuCIRSrOz9RenT.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5008722044740782981</id><published>2009-05-05T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T18:53:36.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A arte de viver...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SgDtD28535I/AAAAAAAAAvI/sgQmF6FZyto/s1600-h/auto-ajuda-dicas-melhorar-qualidade-vida-460x345-br.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332522609353023378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SgDtD28535I/AAAAAAAAAvI/sgQmF6FZyto/s320/auto-ajuda-dicas-melhorar-qualidade-vida-460x345-br.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Viver é a mais importante de todas as artes.&lt;br /&gt;É também o mais longo de todos os aprendizados.&lt;br /&gt;Ela pode ser trágica em seu conteúdo e meteórica em seu percurso.&lt;br /&gt;Rica e admirável em sua mensagem e saudosa em sua lembrança.&lt;br /&gt;O barro da vida clama por mãos que a moldem.&lt;br /&gt;Caso contrário, poderá ficar longe da grandeza para a qual estava destinada.&lt;br /&gt;Ganha-se a vida de graça, mas aprende-se a vivê-la de cobranças.&lt;br /&gt;Nunca temos o suficiente nem nunca somos na medida justa.&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo assim, a vida continua se dando de graça, até para os que vivem desgraçadamente.&lt;br /&gt;Vamos aprendendo aos percalços, nos acertos e cabeçadas, com o bem e o mal que nos tenta.&lt;br /&gt;Continuamos a ser, no dia a dia, até o fim, seus aplicados ou displicentes e, quem sabe, indisciplinados discípulos.&lt;br /&gt;Aprendemos, quando a vida nos derruba, por exemplo, que os tombos doem, até ao dia em que já sabemos como cair e não mais dramatizamos, exageradamente, os quedas que sofremos.&lt;br /&gt;Aprendemos, quando a vida nos afaga, que o coração gosta de ser massageado, até que descobrimos que tais satisfações são pequenas, e que só o verdadeiro grande amor nos completa.&lt;br /&gt;Quando a vida nos sussurra mil promessas, podemos aprender que cair numa tentação pode significar um desastroso descaminho de graves consequências.&lt;br /&gt;A vida é a riqueza maior que temos que, infelizmente, só a aprendemos a apreciar quando estamos quase por perdê-la.&lt;br /&gt;Os anos que temos foram o tempo que já ganhamos para aprender arte de fazer da vida uma fonte de felicidade e de bem aventurança para nós e para os outros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;E entre chegadas e despedidas, vou tentando aprender a perder o que gosto, e a acolher quem chega.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;PS: A vida de uma pessoa é um misto, sempre em mutação, de experiências relevantes do passado, circunstâncias imperativas do momento, e esperanças e expectativas quanto ao futuro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-5008722044740782981?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5008722044740782981/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5008722044740782981' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5008722044740782981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5008722044740782981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/05/arte-de-viver.html' title='A arte de viver...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SgDtD28535I/AAAAAAAAAvI/sgQmF6FZyto/s72-c/auto-ajuda-dicas-melhorar-qualidade-vida-460x345-br.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6074166216000247357</id><published>2009-05-04T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T18:30:30.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BISCUIT, é feito de farinha e água...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sf9o-gJE5oI/AAAAAAAAAvA/AaMcBbYML4c/s1600-h/dori.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332095906819139202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sf9o-gJE5oI/AAAAAAAAAvA/AaMcBbYML4c/s320/dori.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu não penso que poderei te esquecer...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;eu não penso que meu coração aguente...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Minha vida está perguntando por você...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Voando por você...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas a vida é assim...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tem que ser assim...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Então...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando contar três outra vez, volte.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não quero jamais sentir que da minha vida voltes a ir.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No escuro de minha alma brilha a luz iluminando o lugar onde o céu é azul...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Onde o beija-flor voa em busca de outras flores...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Onde o leão molha sua juba no mar...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nesse momento torna-se cinza e o juízo chega a seu fim.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas quando contar três outra vez...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu estarei pensando em ti...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;PS: Boa sorte!Estarei sempre torcendo por você...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Porque a vida é somente&lt;br /&gt;Teu bicho-papão&lt;br /&gt;Fique assim..&lt;br /&gt; Sempre assim..&lt;br /&gt; E se lembre de mim&lt;br /&gt; Pelas coisas que eu dei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Também não se esqueça de mim&lt;br /&gt; Quando você souber enfim&lt;br /&gt; De tudo o que eu amei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;enfim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6074166216000247357?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6074166216000247357/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6074166216000247357' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6074166216000247357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6074166216000247357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/05/biscuit-e-feito-de-farinha-e-agua.html' title='BISCUIT, é feito de farinha e água...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sf9o-gJE5oI/AAAAAAAAAvA/AaMcBbYML4c/s72-c/dori.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-8872157051241338499</id><published>2009-05-03T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T13:14:28.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Existe razão????</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sf34ou7qxcI/AAAAAAAAAu4/7_ZE_SU_8aA/s1600-h/razao.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331690912553289154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 264px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sf34ou7qxcI/AAAAAAAAAu4/7_ZE_SU_8aA/s320/razao.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;É...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me esqueci da luz da cozinha acesa....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;De fechar a geladeira...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;De limpar os pés...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;De anotar os recados...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;De responder seus recados...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Todas janelas abertas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Onde eu guardei a fé em nós?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Minha fé em pó solúvel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;É... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Meu computador apagou minha memória.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Meus textos da madrugada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Tudo o que eu já salvei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;E o tanto que eu vou salvar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Das conversas sem pressa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Das mais bonitas mentiras...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Hoje eu não vivo só...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Eu tenho um mar, e passáros a cantar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mas eu sei que...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Muitos passarão, e entre outros tantos passarinhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Eu vou mais uma vez, me afastando de você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Que o teu afeto me afetou é fato!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Agora faça-me um favor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Por favor!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me dá uma razão, pra te querer aqui perto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Qual o mistério?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A razão é como uma equação de matemática...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Tira a prática de sermos... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Um pouco mais de nós.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Eu juro que tento...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mas não consigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Meu coração é minha razão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Essa é a lógica que inventei pra mim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: Eu pensei em você, assim...sem querer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-8872157051241338499?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/8872157051241338499/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=8872157051241338499' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8872157051241338499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8872157051241338499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/05/existe-razao.html' title='Existe razão????'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sf34ou7qxcI/AAAAAAAAAu4/7_ZE_SU_8aA/s72-c/razao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6544728252356350898</id><published>2009-04-30T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T20:14:36.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FASES...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sfpo44cT7TI/AAAAAAAAAuw/R9O79DZKS9w/s1600-h/2089128898_a3002c549e.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330688435379498290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sfpo44cT7TI/AAAAAAAAAuw/R9O79DZKS9w/s320/2089128898_a3002c549e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Quando erámos crianças, queriamos os brinquedos que víamos na TV, os mais caros e não gostávamos de dividir com ninguém...&lt;br /&gt;Depois veio a dolescência, e passamos a querer o menino mais bonito da escola, aquele que todas olhavam, queriamos não ter hora pra voltar das reuniões dançantes...hihi.&lt;br /&gt;Passamos metadeda vida a procura de ter coisas, para mostrar do que somos capazes...&lt;br /&gt;Os outros são mais importantes que nós mesmos...&lt;br /&gt;Aí um dia a gente percebe que o que realmente importa, é sermos alguém, e apartir daí teremos a felicidade que buscávamos nas coisas, o que acreditavamos nos dar poder.&lt;br /&gt;Aí a gente ama alguém, e percebe que o que importa mesmo é estar com quem se gosta, não porque está dentro de padrões externos, mas porque você realmente sente que mais ninguém poderia ser melhor compania.&lt;br /&gt;Aí você entede que pouco importa se você usa a calça da marca famosa, o perfume mais caro, que você viajou pra fora do país, que você tem o carro do ano, se você não tem com quem dividir honestamente tudo que têm, aí sentimos um vazio que nenhum armário de roupas de grif podem encher.&lt;br /&gt;A maioria de nós viveu situações, experimentou sensações e sentimentos que jamais se atreveria revelar a outra pessoa, poderiam pensar que estamos errados, ou que somos maus, ridículos.&lt;br /&gt;Toda nossa vida poderia parecer engodo. Milhares de medos nos prendem ao confinamento solitário da alienação.&lt;br /&gt;Há uma suposição persistente e errônea de que podemos resolver todos nossos problemas e comandar inteiramente nossa vida, mas a verdade é que sozinhos somos apenas consumidos por nossos impasses e naufragamos.&lt;br /&gt;A evolução do crescimento humano é a evolução de uma necesidade absoluta de ser amado, (infância) para uma prontidão integral para dar amor(amadurecer).&lt;br /&gt;Devemos usar as coisas e amar as pessoas, a pessoa que vive toda uma vida no plano sujeito-objeto descobre que ama as coisas e usa as pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;O que você faz com a sua vida é responsabilidade sua...&lt;br /&gt;O comportamento do ser pleno é sempre imprevisível, simplesmente porque é LIVRE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;PS: Quaisquer que sejam meus segredos, lembre-se, quando os confio a você, eles são parte de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6544728252356350898?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6544728252356350898/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6544728252356350898' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6544728252356350898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6544728252356350898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/fases.html' title='FASES...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sfpo44cT7TI/AAAAAAAAAuw/R9O79DZKS9w/s72-c/2089128898_a3002c549e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5457747792829597296</id><published>2009-04-30T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T14:05:07.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Australoptécos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SfoSJt5v2PI/AAAAAAAAAuo/m4CwUFdUj3w/s1600-h/hiroshima.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330593067096332530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SfoSJt5v2PI/AAAAAAAAAuo/m4CwUFdUj3w/s320/hiroshima.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;A consciência humana mudou muito pouco nos últimos 10.000 anos.&lt;br /&gt;Nossa consciência ainda reage, com respostas adequadas, a quando vivíamos em perigo diante de predadores.&lt;br /&gt;Ela desconsidera, em parte, os efeitos das mudanças ocorridas no ambiente.&lt;br /&gt;Não é mais necessária a postura "atacar ou fugir", como faziam nossos ancestrais, para sobreviverem.&lt;br /&gt;Isso nos leva a afirmar que esta é a era da "reeducação"; uma era em que, se não tomarmos consciência de nossa própria evolução, tornaremos a vida pior do que pode ser.&lt;br /&gt;Será uma época de evolução, de tomada de consciência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;O mundo já está dando seu recado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Há 2 maneiras de evoluir, pela dor ou pelo amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;As doenças vão muito além de um noticiário...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Que anunciam uma pandemia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Enquanto não existir amor no mundo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;As aberrações climáticas, os vírus, a violência, as doenças mentais, vão continuar, limpando o mundo,buscando a harmonia entre o homem e a natureza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;PS: Talvez seja hora de imaginar o que podemos fazer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-5457747792829597296?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5457747792829597296/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5457747792829597296' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5457747792829597296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5457747792829597296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/australoptecos.html' title='Australoptécos...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SfoSJt5v2PI/AAAAAAAAAuo/m4CwUFdUj3w/s72-c/hiroshima.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-121958468441295542</id><published>2009-04-28T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T10:37:33.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflexo de um momento...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sfc-muTK2yI/AAAAAAAAAug/vNguQg_EhCg/s1600-h/ytjhtjn.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329797519000656674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 183px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sfc-muTK2yI/AAAAAAAAAug/vNguQg_EhCg/s320/ytjhtjn.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Será que a sorte virá num vento forte?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Trazendo o pão da manhã...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;A faca e o queijo ou talvez... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Um beijo teu, que me empreste a alegria... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Que me faça juntar todo resto do dia... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Meu café, meu almoço, meu jantar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Meu mundo inteiro... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Que é tão fácil de enxergar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;E chegar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Nenhum medo que possa enfrentar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Nem segredo que possa contar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Enquanto é tão cedo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Serás vida... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Bem vinda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Serás viva... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Bem viva em mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Vejo a ponte que leva o que desejo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;admiro o que há de lindo e o que há de ser... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS:"Os opostos se distraem. Os dispostos se atraem"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-121958468441295542?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/121958468441295542/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=121958468441295542' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/121958468441295542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/121958468441295542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/reflexo-de-um-momento.html' title='Reflexo de um momento...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sfc-muTK2yI/AAAAAAAAAug/vNguQg_EhCg/s72-c/ytjhtjn.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-4576963062457337354</id><published>2009-04-27T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T13:57:30.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PARA O PEQUENO PRINCIPE...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SfXiSg5trzI/AAAAAAAAAuA/fgYlm_OJEfU/s1600-h/Raposa1a.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329414541760376626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SfXiSg5trzI/AAAAAAAAAuA/fgYlm_OJEfU/s320/Raposa1a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Nossa!Quanto tempo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Como vão as coisas no seu planeta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Aqui no meu andam imensamente estranhas, muito bibibi para pouca flor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;se é que você entende meus simbolismos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Quem sempre fala de você é aquela ex-miss que vivia chorando por sua causa, lembra?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ela me contou da sua amizade com a raposa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Principe, como você é meu amigo, não posso deixar de alertá-lo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Cuidado com a raposa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ela parece uma coisa, mas é outra. Faz-se de fofa e é uma cobra, uma chantagista.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Quando a conheci, ela disse que não podia conversar comigo, pois não sabia quem eu era.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"A gente só conhece bem as coisas que cativou", ela falou toda insinuante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Respondi que, se nós duas nos cativássemos, ela ficaria triste quando eu fosse embora.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Foi quando saquei que ela queria ter um afair comigo, pois a raposa pegou nos meus cabelos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;eu estava com o cabelo mais claro na época, e disse que tudo bem, porque ela olharia os campos de trigo e lembraria de mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Marcamos um encontro para o dia seguinte às 16h00. E ela me pediu pra chegar às 16hoo pontualmente, dessa foma ela ficaria feliz desde às 15h00, somente por esperar o momento do nosso encontro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Achei estranho, mas pensei que fosse charminho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Não era!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Cheguei 15min atrasada e a raposa surtou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Falou que nós somos eternamente responsáveis por aquilo que cativamos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;E perguntou pra mim, olhando no fundo dos meus olhos, se eu tinha consciência de que "perder tempo" com o outro é o que faz essa história ser importante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Percebeu o tom de chantagem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ela joga na cara tudo o que faz em nome do outro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ela deseja afeto, mas o quer como uma responsabilidade de mão única.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Porém, também somos responsáveis quando nos deixamos cativar, relacionamentos são vias de mão dupla.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A raposa exige a certeza de um compromisso com hora marcada, impondo regras à troca afetiva, as regras dela, claro, já que ela quer todo o afeto e a favor do seu bem-estar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Chega a ponto de dizer que será feliz porque você virá, como se a felicidade fosse algo condicionado ao outro, à espera do outro, ao encontro do outro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Veja que coisa infantil, são as crianças que precisam de horários certinhos e de associar suas emoções às pessoas com quem se relaciona.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sentindo prazer ou desprazer diante da ausência ou presença da mãe, ou do pai, ou seja lá quem for. Na criança, ainda não há um universo interior, entendeu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Quando nós crescemos, temos de conseguir ver o mundo através das próprias perspectivas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Enxergar a beleza do trigal sem nos lembrar de ninguém.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A raposa, como uma criança assustada, quer que aqueles que amam estejam com ela na hora em que ela deseja.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Achando que elas são "responsáveis" pela felicidade dela, ou seja, o outro lhe deve algo por tê-la cativado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Desde esse dia não falei mais com ela. E aconselho você a fazer o mesmo. Ela não é flor que se cheire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mas se ainda sim você quiser ter esse eterno financiamento de sentimentos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Desejo-lhe boa sorte!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;e um bom rendimento, pois os juros podem ser bem altos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;saudades distantes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;PS: SOMOS CO-CRIADORES DOS VALORES QUE QUEREMOS. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;AVALIAR E CRIAR.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;EIS A ESPERANÇA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-4576963062457337354?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/4576963062457337354/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=4576963062457337354' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4576963062457337354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/4576963062457337354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/para-o-pequeno-principe.html' title='PARA O PEQUENO PRINCIPE...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SfXiSg5trzI/AAAAAAAAAuA/fgYlm_OJEfU/s72-c/Raposa1a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6031487472779702390</id><published>2009-04-24T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T13:14:34.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu e o Mar...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SfIcibU6XAI/AAAAAAAAAt4/Ds3Ax-khSio/s1600-h/OQAAANqxhnA2Vu_dLJxMpFH4UG2KNz2XZqYHOoyO5l0Tn20ZMHzUULX_R2WY6sy5ssIUrdhlRuB7_7TTShyGliVcxckAm1T1UAvPxuSEe6h0ruuiuRV_7TCueaGY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328352686909316098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SfIcibU6XAI/AAAAAAAAAt4/Ds3Ax-khSio/s320/OQAAANqxhnA2Vu_dLJxMpFH4UG2KNz2XZqYHOoyO5l0Tn20ZMHzUULX_R2WY6sy5ssIUrdhlRuB7_7TTShyGliVcxckAm1T1UAvPxuSEe6h0ruuiuRV_7TCueaGY.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SfIcKDlHuKI/AAAAAAAAAtw/C4YlM6dSt00/s1600-h/rj+1178.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Fui de manha molhar os pés na primeira onda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Abri os braços devagar... e me entreguei ao vento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;O sol veio avisar... que de noite ele seria a lua,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Pra poder iluminar... luz apagada num farol...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Sol e chuva, casamento de viúva... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;eu aproveito os carinhos do mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Os quatro elementos de tudo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Deitada diante do mar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Que apaixonado entregou-me as conchas mais belas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Onde já se viu o mar apaixonado por uma mulher?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Quem já conseguiu dominar o amor?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Por que é que o mar não se apaixona por uma lagoa?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Porque a gente nunca sabe de quem vai gostar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Todo sopro que apaga uma chama...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Reacende o que for pra&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;ficar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-6031487472779702390?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6031487472779702390/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6031487472779702390' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6031487472779702390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6031487472779702390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/eu-e-o-mar.html' title='Eu e o Mar...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SfIcibU6XAI/AAAAAAAAAt4/Ds3Ax-khSio/s72-c/OQAAANqxhnA2Vu_dLJxMpFH4UG2KNz2XZqYHOoyO5l0Tn20ZMHzUULX_R2WY6sy5ssIUrdhlRuB7_7TTShyGliVcxckAm1T1UAvPxuSEe6h0ruuiuRV_7TCueaGY.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6434089387641897133</id><published>2009-04-22T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T19:44:09.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MÁSCARA NEUTRA...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Se_VkCkVZTI/AAAAAAAAAto/_Po3_4y63R0/s1600-h/Mascara_branca_pintar.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327711699343861042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 260px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Se_VkCkVZTI/AAAAAAAAAto/_Po3_4y63R0/s320/Mascara_branca_pintar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;A máscara convida ao vazio, ao desconhecido, às forças instintivas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Impõe uma representação silenciosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ousada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;É a busca por gestos, que expressem o que você quer dizer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Você pode até representar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;E demonstrar o que lhe convém...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As palavras conquistam temporariamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mas atitudes sempre marcam mais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Como você quer ser lembrado?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Pense nisso quando escolher a sua máscara.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: Um pouco confusa com tantas máscaras...Será possí&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;vel conhecer alguém bem como ele é?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6434089387641897133?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6434089387641897133/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6434089387641897133' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6434089387641897133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6434089387641897133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/mascara-neutra.html' title='MÁSCARA NEUTRA...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Se_VkCkVZTI/AAAAAAAAAto/_Po3_4y63R0/s72-c/Mascara_branca_pintar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-3483984584493039941</id><published>2009-04-21T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T19:52:16.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sobra tanta falta...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Se5V0391hQI/AAAAAAAAAtg/2MPHRn7rqRs/s1600-h/gft.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327289776090744066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 237px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Se5V0391hQI/AAAAAAAAAtg/2MPHRn7rqRs/s320/gft.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Tive pensando no amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;talvez se eu arrancasse da língua as palavras que gostaria d dizer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Não guardo segredos, mas sou bem secreta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Eu mesmo não acho a chave de mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Se você fosse forte!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Se eu fosse delicada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Quando as estrelas que você olha caírem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Lembre...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Nem toda palavra é&lt;br /&gt;Aquilo que o dicionário diz&lt;br /&gt;Nem todo pedaço de pedra&lt;br /&gt;Se parece com tijolo ou com pedra de giz&lt;br /&gt;Avião parece passarinho&lt;br /&gt;Que não sabe bater asa&lt;br /&gt;Passarinho voando longe&lt;br /&gt;Parece borboleta que fugiu de casa&lt;br /&gt;Borboleta parece flor&lt;br /&gt;Que o vento tirou pra dançar&lt;br /&gt;Flor parece a gente&lt;br /&gt;Pois somos semente do que ainda virá&lt;br /&gt;A gente parece formiga&lt;br /&gt;Lá de cima do avião&lt;br /&gt;O céu parece um chão de areia&lt;br /&gt;Parece descanso pra minha oração&lt;br /&gt;A nuvem parece fumaça&lt;br /&gt;Tem gente que acha que ela é algodão&lt;br /&gt;Algodão as vezes é doce&lt;br /&gt;Sonho parece verdade&lt;br /&gt;Quando a gente esquece de acordar&lt;br /&gt;E o dia parece metade&lt;br /&gt;Quando a gente acorda e esquece de levantar&lt;br /&gt;Ah e o mundo é perfeito&lt;br /&gt;Mas a incerteza traz inspiração...&lt;br /&gt;Tem beijo que parece mordida&lt;br /&gt;Tem mordida que parece carinho&lt;br /&gt;Tem carinho que parece briga&lt;br /&gt;Tem briga que aparece pra trazer sorriso&lt;br /&gt;Tem sorriso que parece choro&lt;br /&gt;Tem choro que é por alegria&lt;br /&gt;Tem dia que parece noite&lt;br /&gt;E a tristeza parece poesia&lt;br /&gt;Tem motivo pra viver de novo&lt;br /&gt;Tem o novo que quer ter motivo&lt;br /&gt;Tem aquele que parece feio&lt;br /&gt;Mas o coração nos diz que é o mais bonito&lt;br /&gt;Descobrir o verdadeiro sentido das coisas&lt;br /&gt;É querer saber demais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Nem toda pergunta tem uma unica resposta...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;A muita vida dentro do meu mundo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Porque nem toda a pedra é sem vida...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Nem toda porta é fechada pra sempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;E eu, ainda estou aki.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;PS: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;A estrada pode ser a mesma, mas o sentido a ser seguido, cada um escolhe o seu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-3483984584493039941?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/3483984584493039941/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=3483984584493039941' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/3483984584493039941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/3483984584493039941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/sobra-tanta-falta.html' title='Sobra tanta falta...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Se5V0391hQI/AAAAAAAAAtg/2MPHRn7rqRs/s72-c/gft.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-841915841687516776</id><published>2009-04-19T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T20:08:12.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Só eu sei quanto mede a minha distância...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SevkOvZlYXI/AAAAAAAAAtY/iLwJjDqO-3U/s1600-h/gramo_locura.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326601926188818802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SevkOvZlYXI/AAAAAAAAAtY/iLwJjDqO-3U/s320/gramo_locura.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Eu acho que tenho certeza daquilo que eu quero agora.&lt;br /&gt;Daquilo que mando embora, que me demora.&lt;br /&gt;Eu acho que tenho certeza daquilo que me conforma.&lt;br /&gt;Daquilo que quero entender.&lt;br /&gt;E não acomodar com o que incomoda...&lt;br /&gt;E quando eu vou...&lt;br /&gt;É quando eu acho onde é que eu tô.&lt;br /&gt;Seja o que for, seja o que surge e some...&lt;br /&gt;Seja o que consome mais.&lt;br /&gt;E a historia que,nem passou por nós direito ainda...&lt;br /&gt;Pra onde é que foi?&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Não há de ser nada, pois sei que a madrugada acaba, quando a lua se põe...&lt;br /&gt;Tem horas que a gente se pergunta, por que é que não se junta tudo numa coisa só?&lt;br /&gt;A gente fica meio...&lt;br /&gt;Meio desencontrado do que a gente é... né? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Se abusá não da nem tempo de aprender as coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Na ansia de sempre chegar primeiro, não valorizamos o caminho, e corremos o risco de nos perder...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Mas no fundo...&lt;br /&gt;Todo mundo procura um lugar, pra poder compartilhar...&lt;br /&gt;Eu não vou caminhar mais sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;O distante será meu vizinho...&lt;br /&gt;E o tempo será...&lt;br /&gt;A hora que eu quiser!&lt;br /&gt;Parar ou continuar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Começar ou recomeçar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Mudar...&lt;br /&gt;Não ha regras para amar, tão pouco odicar...&lt;br /&gt;A explicação está, exatamente onde queremos chegar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;PS: Só se mede uma distância entre 2 ou mais pontos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-841915841687516776?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/841915841687516776/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=841915841687516776' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/841915841687516776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/841915841687516776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/eu-acho-que-tenho-certeza-daquilo-que.html' title='Só eu sei quanto mede a minha distância...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SevkOvZlYXI/AAAAAAAAAtY/iLwJjDqO-3U/s72-c/gramo_locura.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-882256302144877198</id><published>2009-04-18T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T21:34:08.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>INTENSIDADE...1ª A VOAR..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SeqTP96EDDI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/pFBQRnK_FVM/s1600-h/yhjuy.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326231411844451378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 305px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 289px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SeqTP96EDDI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/pFBQRnK_FVM/s320/yhjuy.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ela anda sem rumo certo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Num dia qualqer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mas era primavera...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;E isso lhe trazia lembranças...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O sol já estava se pondo, quando pensou em reve-la...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Esperou um tempo até que a porta se abrisse...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Entrou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Seus olhos não esperavam ver tanta beleza...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Surpresa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ela ouvia aquelas palavras, proferidas tão intensamente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;As informações daquele momento se misturavam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Tire suavimente a minha blusa, me ponha em teu colo, com as mãos na minha cintura, disse...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Faça amor de verdade comigo!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Essa frase gravou na memória...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Entre tantas palavras, gestos,...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;essa frase tocou fundo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Quanto vale?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Qanto vale por uma noite com você?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Qual o teu preço?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Alguem trato o amor como um negócio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Algo que pode ser comprado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Então ela gritou!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Pra você que não sabe o que significa uma paixão, um amor, não tem preço...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A liberdade esvaia por suas veias saltadas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Então ela entendeu o que realmente é o amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;PS: Fe, tu tava linda!...Amei ver-te!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-882256302144877198?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/882256302144877198/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=882256302144877198' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/882256302144877198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/882256302144877198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/intensidade1-voar.html' title='INTENSIDADE...1ª A VOAR..'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SeqTP96EDDI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/pFBQRnK_FVM/s72-c/yhjuy.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6492606653520130515</id><published>2009-04-17T09:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T11:15:58.392-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Qual a verdade???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SejG9CAgNzI/AAAAAAAAAtI/SeI8zxAcuoY/s1600-h/imagem_palhaco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325725311178913586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SejG9CAgNzI/AAAAAAAAAtI/SeI8zxAcuoY/s320/imagem_palhaco.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Eu não sei na verdade quem eu sou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Já tentei calcular o meu valor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Mas sempre encontro sorriso e o meu paraíso é onde estou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Por que a gente é desse jeito? criando conceito pra tudo que restou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Meninas são bruxas e fadas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Palhaço é um homem todo pintado de piadas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Céu azul é o telhado do mundo inteiro ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Sonho é uma coisa que fica dentro do meu travesseiro,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Da onde veio a vida por onde entrei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Deve haver uma saída e tudo fica sustentado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Com água e farinha colo figurinha e foto em documento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Tambor no meu peito faz o batuque do meu coração... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;O meu paraíso é onde estou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Perceber que a cada minuto tem um olho chorando de alegria e outro chorando de luto tem louco pulando o muro, tem corpo pegando doença tem gente trepando no escuro, tem gente falando o que pensa, e nessa inconstancia tem gente sentindo ausência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PS: O COLORIDO SÓ SE FAZ, COM AS CORES QUE VOCÊ QUISER MISTURAR...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-6492606653520130515?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6492606653520130515/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6492606653520130515' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6492606653520130515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6492606653520130515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/eu-nao-sei-na-verdade-quem-eu-sou.html' title='Qual a verdade???'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SejG9CAgNzI/AAAAAAAAAtI/SeI8zxAcuoY/s72-c/imagem_palhaco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5260668129097096080</id><published>2009-04-16T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T20:37:52.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>conclusão</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sef5ItC0rwI/AAAAAAAAAtA/m0Bk1J6O2po/s1600-h/bem-verde-sete-razoes-simples-plantar-arvore-460x345-br.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325499012314607362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sef5ItC0rwI/AAAAAAAAAtA/m0Bk1J6O2po/s320/bem-verde-sete-razoes-simples-plantar-arvore-460x345-br.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Eu te amei, você não entendeu o meu jeito...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;tudo bem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;talvez não tivesse sido muito clara...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Mas tem que ser assim, você longe de mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;vou seguindo o meu caminho, rumo a felicidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Pois mereço outro alguem,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;vou deixando pro passado, nossa história de amor que marcou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Nossa amizade que não é perecível&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;O meu mundo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;na minha vida multicor sempre terás um espaço dedicado só para a sua cor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Viver intensamente, conscientemente e alegrimente é o meu leva...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Como sempre disse...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Nós nascemos pra sermos felizes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;e vamos ser...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;longe dos olhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;mas sempre perto do coração...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;PS: muito bom falar com vc!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/5728123282729694992-5260668129097096080?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5260668129097096080/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5260668129097096080' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5260668129097096080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5260668129097096080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/conclusao.html' title='conclusão'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sef5ItC0rwI/AAAAAAAAAtA/m0Bk1J6O2po/s72-c/bem-verde-sete-razoes-simples-plantar-arvore-460x345-br.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-6306850874045342328</id><published>2009-04-13T16:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T17:23:54.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SONHO...?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SePVqmNaqKI/AAAAAAAAAsw/2YbMMF34cC8/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324334112270100642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SePVqmNaqKI/AAAAAAAAAsw/2YbMMF34cC8/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SePUkKYsqOI/AAAAAAAAAso/Jbx2ODu_bkU/s1600-h/jyu.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A janela estava aberta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Os olhos cansados encontravam-se cerrados...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O corpo por momentos relaxado &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;e ao mesmo tempo pronto para o que rodeava aquele momento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Do lado de fora uma tempestade se formava...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O céu ficou escuro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O sol se escondeu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Um redemoinho de nuvens carregadas indicavam um túnel...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;que instiga uma curiosidade incontrolavél de...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;desvendá-lo, ver o que de fato existe lá dentro,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;palpar o desconhecido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ao mesmo tempo o medo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;a insegurança mantem os pés no chão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Então uma necessidade de esconder o que você julga ser "seu".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Coisas, sentimentos, pessoas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mas você está sozinha, e aquele momento é só seu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ninguem seria capaz de compreender o que você sentia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Você tenta proteger..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Se proteger...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;mas existe uma força maior,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;e você não tem escolha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Vai ao encontro desse céu confuso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Em meio a essa angustia da incerteza,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;com medo, sozinha, incompreendida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Você sente um delicado toque...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Um beijo na face, um carinho inesperado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;voluntário, direcionado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sente uma sensação de prazer indescritivel...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Então você abre suavmente os olhos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;e sente a segurança que sempre quis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;PS: Existe na ausência muito mais que saudades...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/5728123282729694992-6306850874045342328?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/6306850874045342328/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=6306850874045342328' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6306850874045342328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/6306850874045342328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/sonho.html' title='SONHO...?'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SePVqmNaqKI/AAAAAAAAAsw/2YbMMF34cC8/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-268982818984539481</id><published>2009-04-08T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T12:58:42.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HORA CERTA???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sd0BHtyxswI/AAAAAAAAAsg/ubH25mBkEVM/s1600-h/tempo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322411566685074178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sd0BHtyxswI/AAAAAAAAAsg/ubH25mBkEVM/s320/tempo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sdz_hRN-D4I/AAAAAAAAAsY/cLA1KbbOxTM/s1600-h/redwoodcuttingen6.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;De uma coisa podemos ter certeza: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;de nada adianta querer apressar as coisas; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;TUDO VEM AO SEU TEMPO, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;dentro do prazo que lhe foi previsto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;mas a natureza humana não é muito paciente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Temos pressa em tudo, aí acontecem os atropelos do destino, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;aquela situação que vc mesmo provoca por pura ansiedade de não aguardar o&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;TEMPO CERTO. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mas alguém poderia dizer: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mas qual é esse tempo certo? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Bom, basta observar os&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;SINAIS...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quando alguma coisa está para acontecer ou chegar até sua vida, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;pequenas manifestações do cotidiano enviarão sinais &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;INDICANDO O CAMINHO CERTO. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Pode ser a palavra de um&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;AMIGO&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;um texto lido, uma observação qualquer; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;mas com certeza, o&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;SINCRONISMO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;se encarregará de colocar vc no&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LUGAR CERTO, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;na&lt;/span&gt; HORA CERTA, &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;no&lt;/span&gt; MOMENTO CERTO, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;diante da situação ou da&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PESSOA CERTA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Basta vc acreditar que: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;NADA ACONTECE POR ACASO! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;E talvez seja por isso que vc esteja agora lendo essas linhas... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Tente observar melhor o que está a sua volta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Com certeza alguns desses sinais já estão por perto, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;e vc nem os notou ainda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;PS: Que a páscoa traga só momentos bons a serem lembrados.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Feliz páscoa a todos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;bjs.&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-268982818984539481?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/268982818984539481/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=268982818984539481' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/268982818984539481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/268982818984539481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/hora-certa.html' title='HORA CERTA???'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sd0BHtyxswI/AAAAAAAAAsg/ubH25mBkEVM/s72-c/tempo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-1345305254509726245</id><published>2009-04-07T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T14:01:36.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>INQUIETUDE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sdu-7DD5z9I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/JbKg4KZ7k_8/s1600-h/6380168m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322057306311610322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sdu-7DD5z9I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/JbKg4KZ7k_8/s320/6380168m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;O primeiro senso é a fuga.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Bom...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Na verdade é o medo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Daí então a fuga. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Grita-se na sombra uma inquietude, uma alteridade disfarçada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Inquilina de todos nossos riscos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;A juventude plena e sem planos... se vai...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;O parto ocorre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Parto-me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Aborto certas convicções.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Flagelo-me!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Exponho cicatrizes, e acordo os meus, com muito mais cuidado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Muito mais atenção!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;E a tensão que parecia não passar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Todo voto que devo parir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Não dever ao devir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Não deixar escoar a dor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Nunca deixar de ouvir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;com outros olhos!&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-1345305254509726245?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/1345305254509726245/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=1345305254509726245' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1345305254509726245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/1345305254509726245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/inquietude.html' title='INQUIETUDE'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/Sdu-7DD5z9I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/JbKg4KZ7k_8/s72-c/6380168m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-7206129617867812281</id><published>2009-04-06T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T20:02:51.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Incompletos desejos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdrCFrbdxjI/AAAAAAAAAsI/O7c9vbPtU9c/s1600-h/000fyh2h1lx1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321779312504718898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 176px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdrCFrbdxjI/AAAAAAAAAsI/O7c9vbPtU9c/s320/000fyh2h1lx1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdqHpIhmaDI/AAAAAAAAAsA/7vQWodFGfPU/s1600-h/dili+0513.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Os anos se passaram em seu devido lugar.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Deixando registros outrora jogados no esquecimento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;E agora estamos aqui pra lembrar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Que o tempo vai cuidando das horas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E as horas vão matando o tempo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Faz tempo...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Que eu esqueço das horas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;E as horas vão matando o que penso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;O tempo traz a história do mundo nas costas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tudo isso vem no sopro do vento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tão perto, tão longe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Hoje o chão passa rápido e perto do futuro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Me distancio daqui pra lembrar que estarei no amanhã, se precisar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;A memória resiste ao que o tempo insiste em acabar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Quem se lembra, quem se lembra onde queria chegar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Ninguém sabe, ninguém sabe onde tudo vai dar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;O que me excita é a tua cara de espanto enquanto tiro minha blusa, e arranco de ti o coração. Beijando, lambendo e sentindo o que há do lado de fora do quarto escuro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Apenas para que eu possa dizer na manhã seguinte como é ter o peso de sua pele enroscada em meus joelhos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Não que eu vá gritar ou implorar que volte para buscar o gosto que ficou em mim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Essa não é a história de amor que eu quero em meu porta - retrato. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Mastigo, degusto e visto-me outra vez. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Fecho a porta e deixo só a sensação de um banho recém tomado grudada no espelho embaçado do banheiro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Levo comigo a blusa amassada, o corpo suado e a tua cara assustada enfiada em meu seio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;PS: A única verdade é que ninguém quer comer agora, pro gosto chegar depois&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/5728123282729694992-7206129617867812281?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/7206129617867812281/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=7206129617867812281' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7206129617867812281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/7206129617867812281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/incompletos-desejos.html' title='Incompletos desejos'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdrCFrbdxjI/AAAAAAAAAsI/O7c9vbPtU9c/s72-c/000fyh2h1lx1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-2649397550299195769</id><published>2009-04-05T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T20:08:49.392-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quando a agua vira gelo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdlyCdTM4II/AAAAAAAAAr4/m6Px6WWRQ6Y/s1600-h/uygh.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321409821265420418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdlyCdTM4II/AAAAAAAAAr4/m6Px6WWRQ6Y/s320/uygh.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Quimicamente explicando o gelo vira agua em um ponto de fusão..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Quando atinge uma temperatura muito baixa o gelo se forma, e toma forma, e surge então uma nova memória...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Estou nesse ponto de fusão...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;To virando "gelo"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Tomando forma...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;E criando novas memórias...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;PS:Adoro esses momentos...hihihi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-2649397550299195769?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/2649397550299195769/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=2649397550299195769' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2649397550299195769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/2649397550299195769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/quando-agua-vira-gelo.html' title='Quando a agua vira gelo...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdlyCdTM4II/AAAAAAAAAr4/m6Px6WWRQ6Y/s72-c/uygh.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-8441730328008140980</id><published>2009-04-02T12:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T12:53:14.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sensación...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdUXhMpXHnI/AAAAAAAAArw/nPW7DRZX9pk/s1600-h/1236445528225_f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320184393905938034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdUXhMpXHnI/AAAAAAAAArw/nPW7DRZX9pk/s320/1236445528225_f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Quiero volver a ser una niña pequeña... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Una niña que no tiene que estudiar ni matarse de responsabilidades...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Una niña que es feliz sin importar lo que los demás digan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Una niña pequeña que no tenga amores ni desamores...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Una niña que solo es feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-8441730328008140980?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/8441730328008140980/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=8441730328008140980' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8441730328008140980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/8441730328008140980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/sensacion.html' title='Sensación...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdUXhMpXHnI/AAAAAAAAArw/nPW7DRZX9pk/s72-c/1236445528225_f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-5197946890315609346</id><published>2009-04-01T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T21:22:12.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deixar passar...o que tiver que ser...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdQ11eu4lfI/AAAAAAAAAro/LJqbwL4MLDY/s1600-h/amigosnh.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319936252730447346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdQ11eu4lfI/AAAAAAAAAro/LJqbwL4MLDY/s320/amigosnh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Quantas vezes eu errei pra poder acertar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Diversas tentativas para ver no que ia dar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Procurando nas estrelas as incertezas do meu coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Mas as respostas estavam apenas em minhas mãos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Quantas vezes eu sorri quando era pra chorar....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Quantas vezes eu dormi quando era pra acordar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Em lembranças esquecidas é que eu ia encontrar o caminho dessa vida aonde quer que ele possa estar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Quanto tempo eu perdi ou nem vi passar na frente do computador fazendo download da minha alma, procurando na ilusão companhia para a minha solidão. Melhor mesmo abrir as portas e os braços pro mundão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Hoje me peguei juntando as partes da nossa união&lt;br /&gt;Que se quebrou, por falta de compreensão&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo sabendo que era falso amor&lt;br /&gt;Eu me dediquei e você nem notou&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que fui fraca em te querer&lt;br /&gt;Me apego muito fácil, mas eu sou assim&lt;br /&gt;E sei também que um dia eu hei de aprender&lt;br /&gt;Gostar de quem gosta de mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;e assim vou ter o meu final feliz...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;PS: Carinho sempre vou ter por vc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5728123282729694992-5197946890315609346?l=julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/feeds/5197946890315609346/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5728123282729694992&amp;postID=5197946890315609346' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5197946890315609346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5728123282729694992/posts/default/5197946890315609346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://julianeporjuliane.blogspot.com/2009/04/deixar-passaro-que-tiverque-ser.html' title='Deixar passar...o que tiver que ser...'/><author><name>Juliane Bitencourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05823827279855564687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SPE_DMPYQyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/89lXK7EjvXw/S220/yughjyiko.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdQ11eu4lfI/AAAAAAAAAro/LJqbwL4MLDY/s72-c/amigosnh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5728123282729694992.post-8986019017000991022</id><published>2009-03-31T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T18:53:25.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Le'se faire...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdLIt4BPelI/AAAAAAAAArg/gmbPTHR2uYw/s1600-h/Millennium_Watchman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319534800335239762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VYjBDbE56SU/SdLIt4BPelI/AAAAAAAAArg/gmbPTHR2uYw/s320/Millennium_Watchman.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;Tô sozinha aqui no meu canto...&lt;br /&gt;S
