<?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-22317233</id><updated>2012-02-16T05:00:42.691-03:00</updated><category term='Música'/><category term='Feriado'/><category term='Resumo do ano'/><category term='Resumo do mês'/><category term='Despedida'/><category term='Fim de semana'/><category term='Adeus'/><category term='Carnaval'/><category term='Semana Santa'/><category term='Fim de férias I'/><category term='Fim de férias II'/><category term='Filmes'/><category term='Viagem'/><category term='Livros'/><category term='Férias'/><category term='Saudades'/><category term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Era uma vez...</title><subtitle type='html'>...Uma sopinha de palavras perdidas.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>223</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-5207686285297199179</id><published>2008-09-15T23:29:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T23:32:59.475-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adeus'/><title type='text'>Adeus!</title><content type='html'>Pois é, estou abandonando este blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele me acompanhou por muito tempo e serviu como um amigo, ja que desabafei muita coisa aqui. Mas os tempos mudam, como pode ser visto na mudança dos posts nesses dois anos de blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas não abandonarei a vida de blog. Não não. Nasce um novo. Um novo tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apresento a vocês:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.letraefermento.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.letraefermento.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E espero que vocês gostem dele, afinal letra sem fermento não passam de letras soltas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E assim deixo o blog. Uau. Deixo o nightingalepoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E pela última vez,&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale Poe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Nicest Thing - Kate Nash&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-5207686285297199179?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5207686285297199179/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=5207686285297199179' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5207686285297199179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5207686285297199179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/09/adeus.html' title='Adeus!'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3746398732868601823</id><published>2008-06-30T13:21:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:13.999-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Away.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SGkInPLrqnI/AAAAAAAAAPI/mp70ur4CPAU/s1600-h/ATcAAAAkrnUkwRaJhKr1XKs2xmQjTQbSVVPWj7HWYS2nu0D7Nx5WXwLRqTH6GcydWJNbvu_hbw-ZDert5Xg225_r_12DAJtU9VAeickdCHGn9jPGd1jDqrw3XfyOyQ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217711113468881522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SGkInPLrqnI/AAAAAAAAAPI/mp70ur4CPAU/s320/ATcAAAAkrnUkwRaJhKr1XKs2xmQjTQbSVVPWj7HWYS2nu0D7Nx5WXwLRqTH6GcydWJNbvu_hbw-ZDert5Xg225_r_12DAJtU9VAeickdCHGn9jPGd1jDqrw3XfyOyQ.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Como vocês podem ver, eu tenho estado distante do blog. Desde o final de abril eu não tive tempo de parar e escrever algo decente para ser postado aqui. Minhas férias começaram na segunda passada. Mas quis ficar distante de tudo um pouquinho sabe? Estava exausta. Acho que nunca tinha corrido tanto na minha vida: ensaio da abertura de jogos internos, provas, abertura dos jogos, provas no curso de francês, jogos internos, trabalho de biologia (que mais parecia um TCC), provas bimestrais, Desafio Nacional Acadêmico (DNA), peça teatral para ser apresentada, além dos ensaios para ela... Muita, mas muita coisa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Entonces. Estou acabando de escrever uns textos que estavam na cachola. Já já eles aparecem por aqui.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E nem fiz o resumo do mês passado. Dez dias depois do último dia do mês, eu lembrei que tinha o resumo do mês. Mas nem se preocupem... Nem ia ter muita coisa, a não ser livros de biologia que eu li para o trabalho de bioética, que foi ótimo. Não é porque foi o meu grupo, mas a minha equipe foi a melhor. E no desafio nacional acadêmico também. Pena que não posso dizer o mesmo para a prova de química e a prova de francês...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beijo para todos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Durch den monsun - Tokio Hotel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Eu peguei no orkut de alguém, mas não me lembro quem.&lt;/div&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/22317233-3746398732868601823?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3746398732868601823/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3746398732868601823' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3746398732868601823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3746398732868601823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/06/away.html' title='Away.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SGkInPLrqnI/AAAAAAAAAPI/mp70ur4CPAU/s72-c/ATcAAAAkrnUkwRaJhKr1XKs2xmQjTQbSVVPWj7HWYS2nu0D7Nx5WXwLRqTH6GcydWJNbvu_hbw-ZDert5Xg225_r_12DAJtU9VAeickdCHGn9jPGd1jDqrw3XfyOyQ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4142754415747282081</id><published>2008-05-25T22:48:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:14.235-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>C'est comme un casse-tête sans la dernière pièce...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SDoXymqR_1I/AAAAAAAAAPA/NYS2amQIfQ0/s1600-h/Something_missing_by_truckstop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204498477518815058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SDoXymqR_1I/AAAAAAAAAPA/NYS2amQIfQ0/s320/Something_missing_by_truckstop.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Só via as luzes passando rápido através da janela do ônibus.&lt;br /&gt;Não tinha vontade de saber de onde elas viam,&lt;br /&gt;A quem iluminava.&lt;br /&gt;Finalmente meu ponto de parada havia chegado.&lt;br /&gt;Desci. Lentamente mas desci. Sem vontade, mas desci.&lt;br /&gt;Depois de exatamente &lt;strong&gt;107&lt;/strong&gt; largos passos,&lt;br /&gt;A porta chegou à minha frente.&lt;br /&gt;A chave foi ao trinco e num clique meu mundo surgiu.&lt;br /&gt;Joguei a bolsa no sofá,&lt;br /&gt;Preparei meu café.&lt;br /&gt;Sentei-me diante do enorme quebra-cabeça no chão.&lt;br /&gt;Faltava uma peça.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Jóga - Björk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Something missing by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://truckstop.deviantart.com/"&gt;truckstop&lt;/a&gt; (Deviantart)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-4142754415747282081?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4142754415747282081/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4142754415747282081' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4142754415747282081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4142754415747282081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/05/cest-comme-un-casse-tte-sans-la-dernire.html' title='C&apos;est comme un casse-tête sans la dernière pièce...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SDoXymqR_1I/AAAAAAAAAPA/NYS2amQIfQ0/s72-c/Something_missing_by_truckstop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-8919857427298296587</id><published>2008-05-11T22:05:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:14.534-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>I'm the only one in love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SCeb7JM9-SI/AAAAAAAAAO4/MMC1btHvBp0/s1600-h/para-colorir.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199295735207426338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SCeb7JM9-SI/AAAAAAAAAO4/MMC1btHvBp0/s320/para-colorir.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Quer que eu acompanhe você até o ponto de ônibus?&lt;br /&gt;- Não, não precisa não. - Disse sorrindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele não imaginava o quanto eu queria que ele me acompanhasse. Faziam 14 dias que eu não o via, e eu sentia a vontade de aproveitar todos os milésimos, segundos e minutos junto a ele. Não sei se ele sabia do sentimento, que crescia mais e mais.&lt;br /&gt;Anteriormente eu havia me feito uma promessa: quando eu gostasse de alguém, eu iria dizer logo o que sentia. Não ter aquele lenga-lenga. Mas cheguei a conclusão de que isso é muito difícil! Eu não poderia dizer isto a ele. Realmente não.&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu amava ficar ao lado dele. Quando ele colocava seus braços em torno do meu corpo e seus olhos tocavam carinhosamente os meus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E ia demorar tanto para eu poder vê-lo novamente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Está apaixonada! - Disse meu coração&lt;br /&gt;- É, provavelmente estou... - disse relutante a mim mesma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: J'envoie valser - Olivia Ruiz (Zazie cover)&lt;br /&gt;Foto: &lt;a href="http://www.moidsch.com/"&gt;http://www.moidsch.com/&lt;/a&gt; (Os desenhos são ótimos. Recomendo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://letras.terra.com.br/adele/1191047/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;"To make me feel my love..."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-8919857427298296587?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8919857427298296587/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=8919857427298296587' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8919857427298296587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8919857427298296587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-only-one-in-love.html' title='I&apos;m the only one in love'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SCeb7JM9-SI/AAAAAAAAAO4/MMC1btHvBp0/s72-c/para-colorir.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7704470105539676950</id><published>2008-05-04T16:25:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:14.829-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Carrossel.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4PLNxojjI/AAAAAAAAAOk/dTSyAb_0O8g/s1600-h/Carousel_by_HUGEPERRY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196607705382948402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4PLNxojjI/AAAAAAAAAOk/dTSyAb_0O8g/s320/Carousel_by_HUGEPERRY.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Eu não mais suportava. A única coisa que eu tinha em mente era sair dali. Coloquei algumas coisas na mochila. Os principais: escova e pasta de dente, um relógio e um mapa. Peguei o cavalo. Iria o mais longe possível. Para terras desconhecidas. Iria esquecer todo aquele passado que me prendia e ia ao além. Atravessaria o mundo. Chegaria aos mais distantes portos e cruzaria os 7 mares. O vento fazia meus cabelos voarem e o tecido fino do vestido dançar junto à melodia. O horizonte era meu limite. Na verdade, eu não teria limite. Nem o céu seria meu limite, porque meu cavalo poderia criar asas e me levar aos céus. Conheceria outras culturas. Outras pessoas. Outras terras. Quem sabe outros planetas! Nada me deteria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;TRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- O tempo do carrossel acabou. Vamos saindo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Carousel by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://hugeperry.deviantart.com/"&gt;HUGEPERRY&lt;/a&gt; (Deviantart)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Rette Mich - Tokio Hotel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7704470105539676950?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7704470105539676950/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7704470105539676950' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7704470105539676950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7704470105539676950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/05/carrossel.html' title='Carrossel.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4PLNxojjI/AAAAAAAAAOk/dTSyAb_0O8g/s72-c/Carousel_by_HUGEPERRY.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7142775674837688926</id><published>2008-05-01T22:52:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:15.104-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resumo do mês'/><title type='text'>Avril.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SBp0DtxojiI/AAAAAAAAAOc/cq-q52NZSU0/s1600-h/abril_by_Aramelh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195592727301492258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SBp0DtxojiI/AAAAAAAAAOc/cq-q52NZSU0/s320/abril_by_Aramelh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Filmes assistidos: O senhor das armas (parece ruim, mas é muito bom); Alexandre; A ilha; Transformers; Ponte para Terabítia (Lindo); 10 coisas que odeio em você; Por favor matem minha mulher; Sem reservas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saídas: Mini-encontro TM; encontro de turmas da casa de cultura francesa; Pão do Francês com a turma de francês.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bandas conhecidas: 30 seconds to Mars, Calogero, Dionysos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Música que combinou: The Story e The Kill de 30 seconds do Mars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Álbum do mês: Beautiful Lie - 30 seconds to Mars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boa notícia: Passei direto no 1º bimestre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bom presente: Um monte de discos de vinil da vovó.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mês corrido sem tempo para pensar e escrever no blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightinngale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: The Kill - 30 seconds to Mars&lt;br /&gt;Foto: abril by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://aramelh.deviantart.com/"&gt;Aramelh&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7142775674837688926?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7142775674837688926/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7142775674837688926' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7142775674837688926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7142775674837688926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/05/avril.html' title='Avril.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SBp0DtxojiI/AAAAAAAAAOc/cq-q52NZSU0/s72-c/abril_by_Aramelh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-6047002430126631799</id><published>2008-04-02T21:41:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:15.451-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resumo do mês'/><title type='text'>Mars.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R_Qoe2yim6I/AAAAAAAAAOM/UirOyqzGGGA/s1600-h/March_by_Eroticatyphon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184813581578967970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R_Qoe2yim6I/AAAAAAAAAOM/UirOyqzGGGA/s320/March_by_Eroticatyphon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Resumo do mês de março... Atrasado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Livros lidos: &lt;em&gt;Anjos e demônios - Dan Brown; Invenções e memórias - Lygia Fagundes Teles; O velho e o Mar - Ernest Hemingway.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filmes assistidos: &lt;em&gt;Juno, Uma mente brilhante, Kill Bill II, Deu a louca em Hollywood (uma verdadeira perda de tempo), Monsieur Vardoux (Especial Charles Chaplin Telecine Cult), Procurando Nemo, Orgulho e preconceito, O último rei da Escócia...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saídas: &lt;em&gt;Eu + meninas comuTM para assistir Juno; mini-encontro TM; Encontro RPG e Anime.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brincadeiras conhecidas: &lt;em&gt;Fome-come.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bandas conhecidas: &lt;em&gt;Tokio Hotel.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Álbum do mês: &lt;em&gt;Trilha sonora de Juno e Scream - Tokio Hotel.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Música que combinou: &lt;em&gt;Durch den monsun e Rette Mich- Tokio Hotel.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Carnival of rust - Poets of fall&lt;br /&gt;Foto: March by *&lt;a class="u" href="http://eroticatyphon.deviantart.com/"&gt;Eroticatyphon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-6047002430126631799?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6047002430126631799/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=6047002430126631799' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6047002430126631799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6047002430126631799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/04/mars.html' title='Mars.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R_Qoe2yim6I/AAAAAAAAAOM/UirOyqzGGGA/s72-c/March_by_Eroticatyphon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4049165306129324590</id><published>2008-03-30T20:54:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:15.627-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Rien.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R_Aop2yim5I/AAAAAAAAAOE/-nONHuLQcEQ/s1600-h/Nothing_Else_by_wallride13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183687870650686354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R_Aop2yim5I/AAAAAAAAAOE/-nONHuLQcEQ/s320/Nothing_Else_by_wallride13.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sentei-me na frente da tela branca.&lt;br /&gt;Monotonia de sábado à noite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada interessante.&lt;br /&gt;Nenhuma comida apetitosa.&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém importante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tantos Ns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanta falta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanto nada.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Durch den monsun - Tokio Hotel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Nothing Else by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://wallride13.deviantart.com/"&gt;wallride13&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-4049165306129324590?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4049165306129324590/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4049165306129324590' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4049165306129324590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4049165306129324590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/03/rien.html' title='Rien.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R_Aop2yim5I/AAAAAAAAAOE/-nONHuLQcEQ/s72-c/Nothing_Else_by_wallride13.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-5831972195472593988</id><published>2008-03-24T18:21:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:16.025-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>J'envoie valser...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R-gbcmyim4I/AAAAAAAAAN8/6AHvrZdnMUg/s1600-h/winter_in_ISTANBUL_by_junest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181421549552573314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R-gbcmyim4I/AAAAAAAAAN8/6AHvrZdnMUg/s320/winter_in_ISTANBUL_by_junest.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sentei no sofá com a xícara de café, preto e quente.&lt;br /&gt;Na TV, um clássico: Le fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulin, já tinha as frases decoradas.&lt;br /&gt;Fui até a varanda.&lt;br /&gt;Gotas congeladas do céu caiam tocando levemente minha mão que estendi para o espaço livre.&lt;br /&gt;A fumaça do café misturava-se com a fumaça que saia de minha boca.&lt;br /&gt;Estava frio, mas meu coração era quente. Tinha sol. Estava longe.&lt;br /&gt;Liguei o rádio.&lt;br /&gt;Estava tocando aquela música. A primeira (ou segunda) música que eu aprendi quando fazia francês: J’envoie valser. Só que com a Olivia Ruiz cantando. Que era até melhor que a própria Zazie.&lt;br /&gt;Não só a trilha do meu curso.&lt;br /&gt;Mas a trilha daquele capítulo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A carta que tu me mandaste em cima da mesa.&lt;br /&gt;A música a tocar.&lt;br /&gt;A lembrança a torturar.&lt;br /&gt;O inverno a me esquentar.&lt;br /&gt;A distancia a me fazer estar perto.&lt;br /&gt;Perto de mim,&lt;br /&gt;Perto do esquecimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perto da felicidade?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Totgeliebt - Tokio Hotel&lt;br /&gt;Foto: winter in ISTANBUL by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://junest.deviantart.com/"&gt;junest&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-5831972195472593988?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5831972195472593988/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=5831972195472593988' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5831972195472593988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5831972195472593988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/03/jenvoie-valser.html' title='J&apos;envoie valser...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R-gbcmyim4I/AAAAAAAAAN8/6AHvrZdnMUg/s72-c/winter_in_ISTANBUL_by_junest.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4517132884270494105</id><published>2008-03-14T19:33:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:16.359-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>O guarda-chuva amarelo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R9sReytrvyI/AAAAAAAAANs/_ha6vwWtVwM/s1600-h/Yellow_umbrella__by_Wipii.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177751417299648290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R9sReytrvyI/AAAAAAAAANs/_ha6vwWtVwM/s320/Yellow_umbrella__by_Wipii.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acordei e me deparei com uma manhã em &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#666666;"&gt;chuva&lt;/span&gt;. A escuridão do céu sem &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;sol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Levantei.&lt;br /&gt;Coloquei aquele vestido florido.&lt;br /&gt;Peguei o guarda-chuva &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;amarelo&lt;/span&gt;. Um &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;sol&lt;/span&gt; de mentira.&lt;br /&gt;Comi o último pedaço de &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663300;"&gt;bolo de chocolate&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;E saí.&lt;br /&gt;Saí atrás de poças d’água.&lt;br /&gt;Saí para brincar com as lágrimas do céu.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez as minhas lágrimas.&lt;br /&gt;As lágrimas de uma menina,&lt;br /&gt;Em busca do &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;sol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Helden - Apocalyptica, from the album Worlds Collide&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Yellow umbrella. by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://wipii.deviantart.com/"&gt;Wipii&lt;/a&gt; from Deviantart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dica: Stellarium, para quem gosta de astronômia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-4517132884270494105?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4517132884270494105/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4517132884270494105' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4517132884270494105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4517132884270494105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/03/o-guarda-chuva-amarelo.html' title='O guarda-chuva amarelo'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R9sReytrvyI/AAAAAAAAANs/_ha6vwWtVwM/s72-c/Yellow_umbrella__by_Wipii.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-8041978772241989910</id><published>2008-03-09T15:28:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T15:34:53.293-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Estranhisse.</title><content type='html'>[Eu]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Por que ele tinha que estar ali? Ele é doido ou o quê?!?! Sabia que eu estaria ali e mesmo assim foi? E eu ainda me tremo nas bases ao olhar nele. Ah. O odeio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Ele]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Por que ela estava ali? Por acaso perdeu o juízo? Ela sabia que eu estaria ali... Por que ela foi? Para me deixar doido? E ainda assim quando a vejo parece que vou ter um ataque cardíaco! Ah. A odeio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Eu] e [Ele]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Mas ainda assim amo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: My rollercoaster - Juno soundtrack&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Hoje não tem foto.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-8041978772241989910?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8041978772241989910/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=8041978772241989910' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8041978772241989910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8041978772241989910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/03/estranhisse.html' title='Estranhisse.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4180685845904400442</id><published>2008-03-02T18:15:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:16.536-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>O amor é suicídio.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R8sZyUiXh-I/AAAAAAAAANY/6TKkmYebbUM/s1600-h/Digitalizar0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173256949262157794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R8sZyUiXh-I/AAAAAAAAANY/6TKkmYebbUM/s320/Digitalizar0001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; [Lá vem ele]&lt;br /&gt;- Oi!&lt;br /&gt;- Hum... Oi!&lt;br /&gt;- Você está bem?&lt;br /&gt;- Estou. Obrigada.&lt;br /&gt;Com apenas algumas palavras eu já ficava nervosa em falar com ele. Eu não conseguia desviar os olhos do céu aberto que encontrava em seus olhos.&lt;br /&gt;- Você está gostando dele!&lt;br /&gt;- Não, ela não está!&lt;br /&gt;- Qual o problema dela gostar dele? Ele parece ser inteligente, legal... e é fofo. O amor é o sentimento mais lindo. A ansiedade em ver aquele a quem se ama. Sentir as borboletas voando no estômago. O nervosismo de chegar até ele e dizer apenas um oi. Os aviões de papel com a imaginação de beijos...&lt;br /&gt;- Quanta idiotice! Antes a razão do que esta emoção, que nos deixa tão idiota quanto ratos em busca do queijo na ratoeira. A dor do amor é maior que a dor de um perdedor. É irracional! O romance é para os fracos. É um jogo a perder, onde ambos os corações são jogados ao fogo. Ou apenas um o dela. Ele deve gostar de outra pessoa. E ela? Vai cair na amargura com o coração queimado.&lt;br /&gt;- Como você pode ser tão fria?&lt;br /&gt;- Como você pode ser tão romântica?&lt;br /&gt;- PAREM! Eu não quero mais ouvir suas discussões sobre o amor. O meu sentimento por ele cresce, mas não posso me deixar pela emoção. O amor é suicídio. E agora eu não quero morrer por ele.&lt;br /&gt;- Mas...&lt;br /&gt;- Basta. O demônio ganhou. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;"I’m back to black."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love is losing game."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Desenhei, portanto, me desculpem.&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Je suis une feuille - Renan Luce&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-4180685845904400442?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4180685845904400442/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4180685845904400442' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4180685845904400442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4180685845904400442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/03/o-amor-suicdio.html' title='O amor é suicídio.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R8sZyUiXh-I/AAAAAAAAANY/6TKkmYebbUM/s72-c/Digitalizar0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-1711751624131798598</id><published>2008-02-29T16:10:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:16.686-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resumo do mês'/><title type='text'>Resumo de fevereiro!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R8harEiXh9I/AAAAAAAAANQ/sQ470L1sDLs/s1600-h/29th_February__by_xDuanex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172483868033779666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R8harEiXh9I/AAAAAAAAANQ/sQ470L1sDLs/s320/29th_February__by_xDuanex.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; Resumo do mês!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Livros lidos&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;As histórias que o povo conta, Varal de poesias.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Filmes assistidos&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Little miss sunshine, Chuck Berry - O mito do rock, Meu monstro de estimação, Uma mulher contra Hitler, Abracadabra...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nova paixão&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Swing Poi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bons álbuns&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;19 - Adele&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saídas&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Orkontro TM, Luau sem lua com Mila, Ju, Richard, John, Binha e mais alguns indivíduos.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[Grandes]Problemas surgidos&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Acho que estou gostando de alguém (mas o fato de estar gostando dele é absurdo); show do Teatro mágico cancelado.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Música que combinou&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Love is a losing game e You know I'm no good ambas da minha querida Amy Winehouse.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: By starlight - Smashing pumpkins &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[Me about the song: Fuck it]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: 29th February. by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://xduanex.deviantart.com/"&gt;xDuanex&lt;/a&gt; (Deviantart.com)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-1711751624131798598?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1711751624131798598/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=1711751624131798598' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1711751624131798598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1711751624131798598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/02/resumo-de-fevereiro.html' title='Resumo de fevereiro!'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R8harEiXh9I/AAAAAAAAANQ/sQ470L1sDLs/s72-c/29th_February__by_xDuanex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-9018920507560127618</id><published>2008-02-24T21:27:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:16.808-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Eclipse</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R8IL8e3U0oI/AAAAAAAAANI/vfL6UtnYv58/s1600-h/1c490fdbfa7bd3b1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170708455879922306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R8IL8e3U0oI/AAAAAAAAANI/vfL6UtnYv58/s320/1c490fdbfa7bd3b1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eu estava confusa. Uma bagunça de pensamentos no pequeno quarto em meu cérebro. Uma angustia de nãoseioque. Eu não entendia. As músicas melancólicas eu tocava no meu xilofone caseiro. Parecia o barulho de lágrimas caindo levemente no chão. A imagem do rosto dele surgia breve em meus olhos e desaparecia quando tentava visualizar aqueles olhos. A flor de canudo murcha na carteira. A lâmpada quase apagada. A memória tortura. A Terra oculta a luz da lua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essa noite temos eclipse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Best for last - Adele&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Lunar Eclipse by =&lt;a class="u" href="http://bradyv.deviantart.com/"&gt;BradyV&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-9018920507560127618?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/9018920507560127618/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=9018920507560127618' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/9018920507560127618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/9018920507560127618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/02/eclipse.html' title='Eclipse'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R8IL8e3U0oI/AAAAAAAAANI/vfL6UtnYv58/s72-c/1c490fdbfa7bd3b1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2728667814873286497</id><published>2008-02-17T13:57:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:16.979-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R7hpH-3U0nI/AAAAAAAAANA/aFrn3ioUH0c/s1600-h/Portugal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167996158262694514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R7hpH-3U0nI/AAAAAAAAANA/aFrn3ioUH0c/s320/Portugal.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Eu não podia acreditar. Ele estava deitado ali, ao meu lado. Um oceano longe de casa, só para me ver. VER-me! Observei-o dormir. Como eu sonhava com aquele momento...&lt;br /&gt;- Morena, por que você está me olhando?&lt;br /&gt;Sorri.&lt;br /&gt;- Eu não consigo acreditar que você está aqui.&lt;br /&gt;- Por que não? Eu estava aqui pela vizinhança quando soube que você estava morando por aqui. – Disse com um sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;- Mesmo? Aqui? Em Portugal? – Meu sorriso ia de uma orelha a outra, mas tinha que tirar uma dúvida – Como você soube que eu me mudei pra cá? Eu não me despedi de muita gente. Na verdade me despedi só da minha família e algumas pouquíssimas pessoas... – disse baixando a voz.&lt;br /&gt;- Por quê?&lt;br /&gt;- Por que o quê?&lt;br /&gt;- Você só se despediu da sua família? Você tem muitos amigos lá, por que não se despediu deles?&lt;br /&gt;- Você sabe o porquê.&lt;br /&gt;- Não, não sei. Mas mesmo que eu soubesse, acho que você deveria se despedir. Mesmo que suas relações com as pessoas não estivessem bem. Você vai morar aqui por muito tempo, e aí talvez... – mas suas palavras foram interrompidas pelo meu dedo silenciando seus lábios, seguido pela minha boca tocando a dele.&lt;br /&gt;- Quem lhe disse que eu estava aqui? – Perguntei curiosa.&lt;br /&gt;- Um passarinho verde.&lt;br /&gt;Pensei. Que passarinho verde poderia ter dito a ele onde EXATAMENTE eu estava morando. Endereço, número do apartamento... Só havia uma pessoa.&lt;br /&gt;- Uma passarinha verde, de olhos verdes que mora a duas quadras daqui?&lt;br /&gt;- Talvez... – Ele sorriu.&lt;br /&gt;- Só podia ser. – abri um sorriso. Na noite anterior, enquanto fazia uma xícara de café para enfrentar uma noite lendo livros de direito internacional, a campainha tocou. Era ele.&lt;br /&gt;- Eu não acredito que você veio. Principalmente hoje! Véspera da véspera de natal. Você deveria estar lá no Brasil com sua família. Não aqui comigo, no inverno europeu. Não que aqui em Portugal seja tão frio quanto Londres, mas ainda é frio.&lt;br /&gt;- Todos os natais na minha vida eu passei com eles. É hora de mudar você não acha? – Sorriu e me beijou. Aquele beijo especial que eu havia esperado tanto tempo no Brasil, mas só aqui em Portugal que vim conhecer. – E ainda, você está aqui sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;- Não estou! Vou passar ano novo e natal com o passarinho verde. Já temos todo o plano. Vamos para Paris no ano novo! Você vai ficar aqui até quando?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonhos de um futuro indeterminado. Esperado. E como...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Portugal by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://lunam.deviantart.com/"&gt;Lunam&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Wild Bill Jones - Sam Amidon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-2728667814873286497?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2728667814873286497/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2728667814873286497' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2728667814873286497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2728667814873286497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/02/eu-no-podia-acreditar.html' title=''/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R7hpH-3U0nI/AAAAAAAAANA/aFrn3ioUH0c/s72-c/Portugal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4340294387852428101</id><published>2008-02-11T18:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:17.163-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Ser ou não ser vegetariano? Eis a questão!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R7C9ie3U0mI/AAAAAAAAAM4/FWp_EOP0X_0/s1600-h/ATgAAABpT52QFvOanRBRklFl2bHkpj2cSEEHVZeOVSr547ZhzWRuj1_v0QSKj9wChWUCpaT8gCE0ng9mepN4SrimLFp_AJtU9VB7s0kByTbOOuzEetIaurmivpz9aA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165837172692275810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R7C9ie3U0mI/AAAAAAAAAM4/FWp_EOP0X_0/s320/ATgAAABpT52QFvOanRBRklFl2bHkpj2cSEEHVZeOVSr547ZhzWRuj1_v0QSKj9wChWUCpaT8gCE0ng9mepN4SrimLFp_AJtU9VB7s0kByTbOOuzEetIaurmivpz9aA.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ser ou não ser vegetariano? Eis a questão!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tinha uma amiga que é vegetariana. Ela sempre me falava sobre a injusta matança de animais, se temos tantos outros alimentos que não são de origem animal. Eu ficava sensibilizada e concordava com as idéias dela. Amava (na verdade ainda amo) os bolinhos de soja. Fazíamos lasanhas sem carne e era uma delícia! Mas nunca mudei meu lado onívoro para herbívoro.&lt;br /&gt;Numa sociedade como a nossa, é muito, mas muito difícil tornar-se um verdadeiro vegetariano. Vejamos o significado de vegetariano no dicionário:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ve-ge-ta-ri-a-no adj. e sm. Partidário da alimentação EXCLUSIVAMENTE vegetal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretendo dar maior ênfase na palavra EXCLUSIVAMENTE. Porque se é exclusivamente, a alimentação não deve ter NADA, absolutamente NADA de origem animal. Os vegetarianos (pelo menos a maioria) são contra a injustiça contra animais: roupas de pele, testes em animais, do sistema capitalista baseado na extração de produtos de origem animal e mais um monte de coisa. E para mim, um verdadeiro vegetariano tem que ter essa idéia mesmo. Mas o problema é: hoje, algumas pessoas que se dizem vegetarianas, não são verdadeiras para essa filosofia. Vejamos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Comem chocolate. O que tem no chocolate? Leite. Leite vem de onde? Da vaca. A vaca é o que? Um animal!&lt;br /&gt;- Usam caneta Bic. A Bic é uma indústria. Que faz o que? Teste em animais.&lt;br /&gt;- Comem gelatina. O que tem na gelatina? Banha de boi ou vaca. (Pelo menos foi o que ouvi dizer)&lt;br /&gt;- Escovam os dentes com pasta Colgate, uma das melhores do mercado. Colgate é uma indústria de produtos para higiene pessoal. Que faz... teste em animais!&lt;br /&gt;- Usam roupas da Adidas, Calvin Klein, Marc Jacobs... Que são da indústria Coty, que faz o que? Teste em animais.&lt;br /&gt;- Comem peixe! Tipo... Eu ACHO que peixe é um animal [modo irônico on] Só porque ele vive no mar e não faz barulho como Muuuu!  E cocoricó! Não quer dizer que ele não é um animal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se vocês virem o tanto de indústrias que fazem testes em animais, vocês não vão acreditar. Vou citar as mais conhecidas: Gillette Co. (Braun, Duracell), Helene Curtis Industries (Finesse, Salon Selectives, Thermasilk, Unilever), Johnson &amp;amp; Johnson (Aveeno, Clean &amp;amp; Clear, Neutrogena, ROC), L’Oréal U.S.A. (Biotherm, Cacharel, Garnier, Giorgio Armani, Helena Rubinstein, Lancôme, Matrix Essentials, Maybelline, Ralph Lauren Fragrances, Redken, Soft Sheen, Vichy) (Ainda bem que eu uso o L’Oreal Paris), Oral-B (Gillette Company)... Entre várias outras!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que é para proteção dos seres humanos, mas acho de certa forma injusta com os animais. Quando hoje eu comi uma coxinha de frango, eu fiquei pensando se a franga dona daquela coxinha tinha filhotes. Eu sei que isso pode soar estranho, mas é. Também sei que é muito mais saudável a alimentação de origem vegetal, eu até gosto. Podemos viver SIM se alimentando de produtos só de origem vegetal!Mas é totalmente difícil para uma pessoa que corre o dia todo separar uma alimentação sem nada de origem animal. Também sei que a gordura trans (uma das piores inimigas do nosso organismo) É de origem animal.&lt;br /&gt;Admiro as pessoas que conseguiram fazer do vegetarianismo uma filosofia de vida. Até porque não se alimentando de produtos de origem animal, combate-se o aquecimento global, já que florestas são derrubadas para fazendas. Mas não suporto alguns vegetarianos no orkut. Simplesmente esculhambam com as pessoas que não são. Porra, que bom que vocês conseguiram, mas tem pessoas que não conseguem! Acham-se os heróis de tudo e as cabeças de tudo. Também não gosto quando colocam fotos de animais abatidos. Não adianta colocar isso! Só há uma foto que eu gostei e me sensibilizei (Esta que está aí em cima).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que as pessoas que colocam aquele vêzinho verdinho na foto do orkut deveriam pensar duas vezes antes de colocá-lo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apesar de ler sobre, ter amigos ‘vegan’, eu ainda não me converti para essa filosofia. Sempre que posso, evito comer carne. Sou contra o uso de casacos de pele. Mas não consigo deixar de comer pão integral, o bolo de chocolate da mamãe, iogurte Parmalat, leite com Nescau, gelatina, parar de escovar os dentes com colgate, parar de usar pilhas para o MP3, parar de admirar as roupas de Marc Jacobs ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Em algum orkut de algum vegetariano.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. Parabéns a umas das minhas cantoras favoritas. Ela canta muito bem, e tenho torcido muito para ela deixar a erva e o pó. Parabéns por ela ter ganho um prêmio que muitos achavam que ia apenas para o americanos, mas todos nós sabemos que ela era bem melhor que todos eles juntos. Ladies and gentlemen, miss Amy Winehouse! Vencedora de 5 dos 6 Grammys em que ela foi indicada. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Record of the year: Rehab - Amy Winehouse&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Song of the year: Rehab - Amy Winehouse&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best new artist: Amy Winehouse&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Female Pop Vocal Performance: Amy Winehouse&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Pop Vocal Album: Back to black - Amy Winehouse&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Só perdeu o para o álbum do ano. Perdeu para Herbie Hancock, com o álbum River: The Joni Letters. Eu só perdoo porque tem Norah Jones, Joni Mitchell, Corinne Bailey... Porque se não... Tinha sido enrolada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E ainda o produtor das músicas Rehab, Back to black e You know I'm no good, também ganhou o Grammy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-4340294387852428101?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4340294387852428101/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4340294387852428101' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4340294387852428101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4340294387852428101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/02/ser-ou-no-ser-vegetariano-eis-questo.html' title='Ser ou não ser vegetariano? Eis a questão!'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R7C9ie3U0mI/AAAAAAAAAM4/FWp_EOP0X_0/s72-c/ATgAAABpT52QFvOanRBRklFl2bHkpj2cSEEHVZeOVSr547ZhzWRuj1_v0QSKj9wChWUCpaT8gCE0ng9mepN4SrimLFp_AJtU9VB7s0kByTbOOuzEetIaurmivpz9aA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3919078788147618221</id><published>2008-02-10T18:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:17.363-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de férias I'/><title type='text'>End of it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R69mPu3U0lI/AAAAAAAAAMw/SHFcFxvPY7s/s1600-h/kumagoro_vacations_by_gaaranaru.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165459718081401426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R69mPu3U0lI/AAAAAAAAAMw/SHFcFxvPY7s/s320/kumagoro_vacations_by_gaaranaru.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Último dia de férias. Amanhã começa (novamente) as aulas. Meu penúltimo ano no colégio. Essas férias foram estranhas. Não foram TÃO legais quanto eu esperava que fossem. Recapitulemos minha lista de coisas que eu queria fazer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. Acordar cedo.&lt;br /&gt;. Dormir cedo.&lt;br /&gt;. Ler About a boy.&lt;br /&gt;. Aprender a costurar.&lt;br /&gt;. Aprender crochê.&lt;br /&gt;. Estudar francês e inglês.&lt;br /&gt;. Caminhar.&lt;br /&gt;. Fazer montagens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vejamos agora o que eu fiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. Não acordei cedo, só alguns dias, no fim das férias principalmente. Acho que foi o corpo já sabendo que as férias estavam acabando.&lt;br /&gt;. Dormir cedo, com certeza não. Ficava assistindo filme ou conversando na net.&lt;br /&gt;. Ler About a boy, eu ia ler na internet, mas não consegui. É MUITO ruim. Mas aí, encontrei na promoção numa livraria o livro mesmo. Mas ainda não li.&lt;br /&gt;. Aprender a costurar? RÁ! Essa eu não fiz de jeito nenhuuum. Só se foi dar um pontinho na calça que estava rasgada. Mas não conta.&lt;br /&gt;. Aprender crochê, isso eu aprendi... Não muito bem, mas é só aperfeiçoar.&lt;br /&gt;. Estudar francês e inglês? RÁ! Também passei longe dos livros e cadernos de língua estrangeira.&lt;br /&gt;. Caminhar. Caminhei... 1 semana de 1 mês e 2 semanas de férias... Mas caminhei!&lt;br /&gt;. Fazer montagens... Fiz... 1 de umas 10 que eu tinha em mente... Mas fiz!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como vocês podem ver essas férias não foram nada proveitosas. Mas tive saídas ótimas com meus amigos, conheci outras ótimas pessoas (futuros amigos espero), li muitos livros e escutei muita banda boa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Jantar]&lt;br /&gt;Eu: Ai ai... Férias acabam amanhã&lt;br /&gt;Mãe: Nem aproveitou né?&lt;br /&gt;Eu: Não é isso. Até que eu fiz uma das coisas da lista: Aprendi crochê!&lt;br /&gt;Pai: Ela aproveitou sim! Conheceu o Afeganistão, agora conheceu a Suíça e ainda foi em Roma.&lt;br /&gt;Eu: E ainda fui à Alemanha!&lt;br /&gt;Pai: Tá vendo? Ela aproveitou e muito as férias!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dicionário:&lt;br /&gt;Afeganistão: O caçador de pipas&lt;br /&gt;Suíça e Roma: Anjos e Demônios&lt;br /&gt;Alemanha: O menino de pijama listrado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Hometown Glory - Adele&lt;br /&gt;Foto: kumagoro vacations by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://gaaranaru.deviantart.com/"&gt;gaaranaru&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gosh, I still think he's alive.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-3919078788147618221?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3919078788147618221/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3919078788147618221' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3919078788147618221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3919078788147618221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/02/end-of-it.html' title='End of it.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R69mPu3U0lI/AAAAAAAAAMw/SHFcFxvPY7s/s72-c/kumagoro_vacations_by_gaaranaru.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3225595694853957536</id><published>2008-02-04T14:01:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:17.466-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feriado'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carnaval'/><title type='text'>Le Carnaval.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R6dFFitlKPI/AAAAAAAAAMo/2ngpLOA9Ixw/s1600-h/Carnival_by_thierry75.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163171459323209970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R6dFFitlKPI/AAAAAAAAAMo/2ngpLOA9Ixw/s320/Carnival_by_thierry75.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Eram 11:15 da noite, e o filho da puta do vizinho ainda estava com o som na maior altura. Desde às 11 da manhã. Quando eu optei em ficar em casa no carnaval, foi a procura de paz e tranqüilidade, já que a folia se concentra nos interiores. Mas pareceu-me que a porra do vizinho não havia entendido. Eu só queria dormir! Ele já tinha atrapalhado minha leitura (tentei ler um livro, mas o barulho invadia meu quarto), já tinha me atrapalhado quando eu queria assistir o filme dos Beatles, mas a porcaria que ele estava escutando não me deixava escutar a banda cantar músicas como "A hard day's night". Ele passou 12 horas, com apenas alguns pequenos intervalos, com o som na maior altura. Depois não entendem quando eu digo que odeio vizinhos. Eu tinha que dar um fim naquilo. Eu queria dormir! Coloquei o roupão, fui na cozinha, abri a gaveta, peguei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Ding dong]&lt;br /&gt;Nada.&lt;br /&gt;[Noc noc noc]&lt;br /&gt;- Quem é? - pergunta o filho da puta.&lt;br /&gt;- É a vizinha!&lt;br /&gt;- Ah tá! - Escuto os passos chegando perto do portão. - O som não está atrapalhando né?&lt;br /&gt;- Não imagina. - Digo com um sorriso - Você é quem está.&lt;br /&gt;Só pude ver o rosto assustado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Ding dong]&lt;br /&gt;- Quem é?&lt;br /&gt;- Polícia! &lt;br /&gt;Abri o portão.&lt;br /&gt;- Oi senhor. Posso ajudar?&lt;br /&gt;- A senhorita ouviu algo estranho na casa ao lado na noite passada?&lt;br /&gt;Parei, pensei um pouco.&lt;br /&gt;- Não senhor. Não ouvi nada. Por que?&lt;br /&gt;- Porque seu vizinho foi encontrado morto hoje pela manhã.&lt;br /&gt;Arregalo meus olhos. Não podia acreditar.&lt;br /&gt;- Como assim senhor? Não pode ser! Era para roubar?&lt;br /&gt;- Isso é que é estranho. Nada foi roubado. Não há indícios de vingança. Não encontramos um porquê.&lt;br /&gt;- Mas isso é horrível. E como ele morreu?&lt;br /&gt;- A facada. 20 facadas ao todo. A senhorita não ouviu nada mesmo?&lt;br /&gt;- Não senhor.&lt;br /&gt;- Se é assim, desculpe-me se interrompi algo.&lt;br /&gt;- Tudo bem senhor. Qualquer coisa é só entrar em contato comigo. Farei questão de ajudar.&lt;br /&gt;- Obrigado.&lt;br /&gt;E assim observei o policial afastar-se e voltar a casa onde o crime havia sido cometido.&lt;br /&gt;"Pelo menos uma morte no carnaval foi por uma justa causa" Pensei. E um leve sorriso abriu-se em meu rosto, quando vi um roupão sujo no cesto de lavar roupa e uma faca no escorredor da pia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Boy and the ghost - Tarja Turunen&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Carnival by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://thierry75.deviantart.com/"&gt;thierry75&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Sonhei com sua pessoa. Devo dizer sonho ou pesadelo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-3225595694853957536?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3225595694853957536/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3225595694853957536' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3225595694853957536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3225595694853957536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/02/le-carnaval.html' title='Le Carnaval.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R6dFFitlKPI/AAAAAAAAAMo/2ngpLOA9Ixw/s72-c/Carnival_by_thierry75.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3519898334861015493</id><published>2008-01-31T15:04:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:17.791-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resumo do mês'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Resumo do mês</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R6IP9ytlKOI/AAAAAAAAAMg/NfTR_4BLw5w/s1600-h/IMG_2178.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161705677179398370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R6IP9ytlKOI/AAAAAAAAAMg/NfTR_4BLw5w/s320/IMG_2178.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Resumo do mês!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Livros lidos&lt;/strong&gt;: O menino de pijama listrado, O caçador de pipas e Em família (Um livro com vários contos)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Filmes assistidos&lt;/strong&gt;: Bonecas russas, O albergue espanhol, O fabuloso destino de Amélie Poulain, O sonolento Klopp, O segredo de Brokeback mountain, Os irmãos Grimm, Brilho eterno de uma mente sem lembranças, A bússola de ouro, Ratatouille...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bandas conhecidas&lt;/strong&gt;: Adele (uma ótima cantora de jazz)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bons albuns&lt;/strong&gt;: In rainbow - Radiohead, We are the pipettes - The pipettes, Lust lust lust - The raveonettes, My winter storm - Tarja Turunen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saídas&lt;/strong&gt;: Eu e Vítor, Encontro Teatro mágico...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Montagem feita&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;a href="http://www.orkut.com/AlbumZoom.aspx?uid=5259517809568002988&amp;amp;pid=1200354135835&amp;amp;aid=1200328479"&gt;La femme chocolat&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Música que combinou legal&lt;/strong&gt;: Videotape - Radiohead e Hometown Glory - Adele&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Txaran!&lt;/strong&gt;: Tirei meu título de eleitor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Tell me what you want - The pipettes&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Manhã em Paripueira (cidade no litoral de Alagoas)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-3519898334861015493?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3519898334861015493/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3519898334861015493' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3519898334861015493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3519898334861015493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/01/resumo-do-ms.html' title='Resumo do mês'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R6IP9ytlKOI/AAAAAAAAAMg/NfTR_4BLw5w/s72-c/IMG_2178.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-621083183175050982</id><published>2008-01-26T23:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:18.023-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Sujeirabagunçofobia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R5vyNCtlKNI/AAAAAAAAAMY/3Hn7eP8td70/s1600-h/Bedroom_Two_by_wolfsongblue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159984103963306194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R5vyNCtlKNI/AAAAAAAAAMY/3Hn7eP8td70/s320/Bedroom_Two_by_wolfsongblue.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - Entra! Desculpa a baguncinha. Eu não tive muito tempo para arrumar. Nem está muito bagunçado né? Pelo menos a cama está forrada. – E abriu aquele sorri que eu tanto amava. – Você espera aqui enquanto faço a pipoca?&lt;br /&gt;- Claro!&lt;br /&gt;Deu-me um beijo e saiu. Era a primeira vez que eu entrei no quarto dele. Tinha um guarda roupa no canto direito, a cama no centro, um mesinha tipo de estudos com uma televisão e um DVD. Eu não sei o que ele quis dizer com ‘baguncinha’. Porque o quarto estava uma verdadeira bagunça! Tinham folhas espalhadas na mesa; a cama estava forrada, mas o lençol de se cobrir estava amarrotado do canto da cama; tinham camisas numa cadeira que esqueci de comentar... Deus... Como eu tenho sujeirobagunçofobia, eu entrei em pânico. Eu TINHA que arrumar o quarto... Eu não ia agüentar assistir um de nossos filmes favoritos (Le fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain) no meio daquele... furdunço. Tirei a mochila, amarrei o cabelo. Juntei todas as folhas e coloquei num cantinho da mesa. Dobrei as camisas e as deixei arrumadinhas na cadeira. Enquanto estou dobrando o lençol olho para a porta e o vejo olhando para mim com uma travessa de pipoca na mão e uma expressão surpresa.&lt;br /&gt;- Eu posso explicar. Você sabe que eu tenho bagunçofo... –Parei de falar quando ele abriu um sorriso. Deu-me um beijo. Também sorri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: De ontem em diante - Teatro mágico&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Bedroom Two by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://wolfsongblue.deviantart.com/"&gt;wolfsongblue&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-621083183175050982?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/621083183175050982/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=621083183175050982' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/621083183175050982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/621083183175050982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/01/sujeirabagunofobia.html' title='Sujeirabagunçofobia'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R5vyNCtlKNI/AAAAAAAAAMY/3Hn7eP8td70/s72-c/Bedroom_Two_by_wolfsongblue.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4036818614258815512</id><published>2008-01-22T21:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:18.206-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Despedida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Obituário.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R5aRyWz-7bI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/rIJ88LAX3HM/s1600-h/Star_Gazers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158470717502582194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R5aRyWz-7bI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/rIJ88LAX3HM/s320/Star_Gazers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; É estranho saber que a cada minuto uma pessoa morre no mundo. Mas o que é mais estranho é quando você conhece uma pessoa que morreu. Mesmo que você nunca tenha conhecido. Nunca tenha visto pessoalmente. Nunca tenha trocado algumas palavras. O mais estranho ainda é ver a gravação do corpo dessa pessoa sendo retirado do local onde sua alma deixou esse mundo, entrando no carro do IML da cidade de New York. Saber que talvez o legista que irá estudar as causas de sua morte, tenha sido um grande fã de seus filmes. Que o filme Brokeback mountain esteja na lista de seus filmes favoritos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Também é estranho saber que às 18:25, a hora em que ele foi encontrado, eu estava conversando com minha amiga na internet sobre um óculos que comprei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É mesmo... Estranho. Saber que nunca mais vou vê-lo nos cartazes do cinema. Ele não era meu ator favorito. Mas sempre gostei de seus filmes. E sempre o achei lindo. E estranho saber que ao digitar essas palavras (quase 3 horas depois que seu corpo foi encontrado), ele está deitado numa cama gelada, esperando o momento em que se tornará cinzas, ou será envolvido pela terra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É.&lt;br /&gt;Estranho.&lt;br /&gt;Mas.&lt;br /&gt;Real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais uma estrela vai brilhar no céu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A morte... é inevitável.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Eu odeio o jeito que você fala comigo. E o jeito que você corta o cabelo.&lt;br /&gt;Eu odeio o jeito que dirige meu carro. Eu odeio quando você encara.&lt;br /&gt;Eu odeio as suas bobas botas de combate e o jeito que lê a minha mente.&lt;br /&gt;Eu te odeio tanto que fico doente — E isso me faz rimar.&lt;br /&gt;Eu odeio o jeito como você sempre esta certo. Odeio quando mente.&lt;br /&gt;Eu odeio quando me faz rir — E muito mais quando me faz chorar.&lt;br /&gt;Eu odeio quando você não esta perto. E o fato de você não ligar.&lt;br /&gt;Mas mais ainda, eu odeio o jeito como não te odeio — Nem de longe, nem um pouquinho, nem nada."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Hamburg Song - Keane&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Star Gazers by *&lt;a class="u" href="http://celesse.deviantart.com/"&gt;celesse&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Be in peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-4036818614258815512?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4036818614258815512/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4036818614258815512' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4036818614258815512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4036818614258815512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/01/obiturio.html' title='Obituário.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R5aRyWz-7bI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/rIJ88LAX3HM/s72-c/Star_Gazers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4793735039044719379</id><published>2008-01-21T11:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:18.393-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Eu sou Robinson Crusoé</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R5StQGz-7aI/AAAAAAAAAMI/LCVl_L_hzvg/s1600-h/The_Ocean_by_crazy1ady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157937965464219042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R5StQGz-7aI/AAAAAAAAAMI/LCVl_L_hzvg/s320/The_Ocean_by_crazy1ady.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;90 km/h. Noventa quilômetros por hora. Essa é a velocidade ideal para você estar dentro de um carro, naquela longa estrada com a cabeça do lado de fora da janela, sentindo o vento bater em seus cabelos e seus olhos observarem aquele mar extenso a sua frente. Eu, no banco de trás. Papai e mamãe nos bancos de frente. Estávamos voltando da praia. Alguns dias longe da cidade são fundamentais nas férias. Renovação. Essa é uma ótima palavra. Ir à praia com as primas e a irmã. Nada melhor do que isso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sempre, mas sempre que vou visitar o mar, eu me pergunto: Se eu seguir em frente, atravessando esse mar todo, onde vou chegar? Olhando o mapa mundi, eu chegaria (seguindo em frente, para leste) em Luanda, na Angola. Se fosse para o sul, chegaria à Antártida. Se voltasse para o leste, mas mudando o ângulo da régua que estou usando, poderia chegar a outros países da África, como: Serra Leoa, Costa do Marfim, Nigéria, Namíbia e até na África do sul. É estranho pensar que há terras depois daquele azul todo. Eu me pergunto se há pessoas se perguntando a mesma coisa do outro lado. Podem me achar maluca, mas não há uma única vez que eu vá visitar o mar sem me perguntar isso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Será que tem muitos navios viajando no Atlântico agora?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Mas é claro quem tem&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Será que algum deles poderia parar aqui e me levar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Levar pr’onde?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Sei lá. Contanto que ele me leve para conhecer terras novas está ótimo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;-&lt;em&gt; E quem você é? Robinson Crusoé?!?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Não... Mas gostaria de ser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[Conversa que se passa na minha cabeça.]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Nada. O silêncio está ótimo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: The Ocean by *&lt;a class="u" href="http://crazy1ady.deviantart.com/"&gt;crazy1ady&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-4793735039044719379?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4793735039044719379/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4793735039044719379' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4793735039044719379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4793735039044719379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/01/eu-sou-robinson-cruso.html' title='Eu sou Robinson Crusoé'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R5StQGz-7aI/AAAAAAAAAMI/LCVl_L_hzvg/s72-c/The_Ocean_by_crazy1ady.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2693233746858094055</id><published>2008-01-09T17:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:18.838-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Cadê?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R4UzgGz-7ZI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Mqva6RUTtu8/s1600-h/Plane_by_fjuk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153581975272877458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R4UzgGz-7ZI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Mqva6RUTtu8/s320/Plane_by_fjuk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lá estava eu. Começo da noite. Sozinha. Na praça. Lendo.&lt;br /&gt;Quando escuto, de repente, um som que simplesmente adoro. O som de turbinas de avião. Eu sempre imagino para onde este avião está indo... Está saindo do aeroporto ou está chegando à ele? Está indo para a Europa, Ásia? Ou está vindo de São Paulo, Curitiba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu procurei, e procurei... Mas não encontrei o avião. Apenas podia escutar a música de suas turbinas. Ele deve ser que nem o amor. Posso ouvir, mas não consigo encontrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Ready to go - Julie Delpy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Plane by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://fjuk.deviantart.com/"&gt;fjuk&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-2693233746858094055?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2693233746858094055/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2693233746858094055' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2693233746858094055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2693233746858094055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/01/cad.html' title='Cadê?'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R4UzgGz-7ZI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Mqva6RUTtu8/s72-c/Plane_by_fjuk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2157054113606983952</id><published>2008-01-06T18:29:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:19.083-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Jazz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R4FJamz-7YI/AAAAAAAAAL4/vnBqogGx1Po/s1600-h/jazz_lounge_by_alsature.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152480170132565378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R4FJamz-7YI/AAAAAAAAAL4/vnBqogGx1Po/s320/jazz_lounge_by_alsature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;Nas altas horas da noite, conversas com amigos numa fria tela de computador.&lt;br /&gt;O jazz rola nas caixas de som.&lt;br /&gt;O café é desejado.&lt;br /&gt;A cabeça pede sono, mas não quero deitar.&lt;br /&gt;O ventilador ventila o quarto pequeno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sabe querida, há pessoas ou coisas que são nossas lembranças. Elas simplesmente ficam em nossas mentes. Só serão esquecidas e guardadas por elas mesmas...”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;"Love is a losing game..." Amy Winehouse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;Escutando: Don't get me wrong - The pretenders&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;Foto: jazz lounge by *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="u" href="http://alsature.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span &gt;alsature&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-2157054113606983952?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2157054113606983952/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2157054113606983952' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2157054113606983952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2157054113606983952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/01/jazz.html' title='Jazz'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R4FJamz-7YI/AAAAAAAAAL4/vnBqogGx1Po/s72-c/jazz_lounge_by_alsature.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-5743987656924460251</id><published>2008-01-05T13:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:19.239-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filmes'/><title type='text'>Spin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3-2XWz-7XI/AAAAAAAAALw/MhLa4cgQChY/s1600-h/Spider___Sunset_2_by_lovablepsycho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152037011111996786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3-2XWz-7XI/AAAAAAAAALw/MhLa4cgQChY/s320/Spider___Sunset_2_by_lovablepsycho.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Era uma vez uma aranha.&lt;br /&gt;Ela fez toda a sua teia, que parecia perfeita.&lt;br /&gt;Então, uma mosquinha surge lá longe.&lt;br /&gt;Foi chegando perto...&lt;br /&gt;Perto...&lt;br /&gt;E mais perto.&lt;br /&gt;A aranha gostava da mosquinha.&lt;br /&gt;Parecia-lhe ser uma boa refeição.&lt;br /&gt;Não.&lt;br /&gt;A aranha não é má.&lt;br /&gt;É a cadeia alimentar.&lt;br /&gt;Aranha prende e come mosquinha.&lt;br /&gt;Mosquinha é presa e é comida por aranha.&lt;br /&gt;Quando a aranha atacou a mosquinha,&lt;br /&gt;Que parecia tão indefesa a bixinha,&lt;br /&gt;O inseto voador fugiu.&lt;br /&gt;Ilesa.&lt;br /&gt;Fez um incrível rombo na teia tão querida da aranha.&lt;br /&gt;A aranha chorou.&lt;br /&gt;E a mosquinha estava ilesa.&lt;br /&gt;Sem um arranhão.&lt;br /&gt;A aranha reconstruiu a teia.&lt;br /&gt;E não estava com fome.&lt;br /&gt;Tinha sua teia.&lt;br /&gt;Sua companhia.&lt;br /&gt;Sua vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A aranha perdeu uma parte da teia. Reconstruíu. Não é a mesma teia. Mas não pode mais cair. A mosquinha levou uma parte da teia original. Talvez em um de seus vôos, ela deixe cair a teia tão querida pela aranha. E assim, a teia será mais completa ainda. Mas mesmo que a mosquinha não passe por aqui, a aranha está feliz. Porque se tivesse comido a mosquinha, teria perdido toda a sua teia.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E acreditem, eu não queria perder tudo que eu tinha construído.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999900;"&gt;" This is my way of saying goodbye. Because I can't do it face to face. I'm talking to you. After it's too late. From my videotape " Radiohead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Videotape - Radiohead&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Spider + Sunset 2 by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://lovablepsycho.deviantart.com/"&gt;lovablepsycho&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. Assistam o filme Narco. O nome em inglês é The Secret Adventures of Gustave Klopp e em português O sonolento Klopp. O filme é francês e vale a pena ser assistido. Clique &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0381442/"&gt;aqui&lt;/a&gt; para ver as informações como sinopse, lista de atores... (em inglês). O filme fala de Gustave Klopp, um homem que sofre de uma doença que o faz ter cair de sono a qualquer momento. Nesses momentos de sono, ele tem sonhos com super-homens de quadrinhos. Um filme super engraçado que não vai fazer você dormir.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-5743987656924460251?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5743987656924460251/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=5743987656924460251' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5743987656924460251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5743987656924460251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/01/spin.html' title='Spin'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3-2XWz-7XI/AAAAAAAAALw/MhLa4cgQChY/s72-c/Spider___Sunset_2_by_lovablepsycho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7646060006464576384</id><published>2008-01-04T21:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:19.398-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Gedächtnis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R37W8Gz-7WI/AAAAAAAAALo/iJPSAg9M1HM/s1600-h/_Polaroid_IX__Bad_Memories_II_by_chipil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151791351867567458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R37W8Gz-7WI/AAAAAAAAALo/iJPSAg9M1HM/s320/_Polaroid_IX__Bad_Memories_II_by_chipil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nas altas horas da noite, conversas com amigos numa fria tela de computador.&lt;br /&gt;O jazz rola nas caixas de som.&lt;br /&gt;O café é desejado.&lt;br /&gt;A cabeça pede sono, mas não quero deitar.&lt;br /&gt;O ventilador ventila o quarto pequeno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sabe querida, há pessoas ou coisas que são nossas lembranças. Elas simplesmente ficam em nossas mentes. Só serão esquecidas e guardadas por elas mesmas...”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;"I’ll never love you like her" - Winehouse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Just friends - Amy Winehouse&lt;br /&gt;Foto: _Polaroid IX: Bad Memories II by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://chipil.deviantart.com/"&gt;chipil&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7646060006464576384?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7646060006464576384/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7646060006464576384' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7646060006464576384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7646060006464576384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/01/gedchtnis.html' title='Gedächtnis'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R37W8Gz-7WI/AAAAAAAAALo/iJPSAg9M1HM/s72-c/_Polaroid_IX__Bad_Memories_II_by_chipil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-6728923217215725417</id><published>2008-01-03T12:34:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:19.741-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Cada um indo para seu lado.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R30BLWz-7VI/AAAAAAAAALg/ohFjRa5z8Bk/s1600-h/walk_with_me_by_ssilence.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151274843395517778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R30BLWz-7VI/AAAAAAAAALg/ohFjRa5z8Bk/s320/walk_with_me_by_ssilence.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;Eu tenho andado sem destino.&lt;br /&gt;Apenas coloco o meu velho All Star,&lt;br /&gt;Abro o portão e ando...&lt;br /&gt;Ando.&lt;br /&gt;Ando.&lt;br /&gt;Ando.&lt;br /&gt;Não sei para onde.&lt;br /&gt;Nem sei até quando.&lt;br /&gt;Acho que a vontade de fugir é tão grande,&lt;br /&gt;Que só o fato de sair,&lt;br /&gt;Sem ter um local de chegada,&lt;br /&gt;Já me faz sentir,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estar longe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;"&gt;"Round my hometown, oh the people I've met, are the wonders of my world. Are the wonders of my world." Adele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Hometown glory - Adele&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: walk with me by *&lt;a class="u" href="http://ssilence.deviantart.com/"&gt;ssilence&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-6728923217215725417?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6728923217215725417/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=6728923217215725417' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6728923217215725417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6728923217215725417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/01/cada-um-indo-para-seu-lado.html' title='Cada um indo para seu lado.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R30BLWz-7VI/AAAAAAAAALg/ohFjRa5z8Bk/s72-c/walk_with_me_by_ssilence.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4734348686936085984</id><published>2008-01-01T18:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:19.937-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feriado'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>La nouvelle année</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3qxkmz-7UI/AAAAAAAAALY/nDzMSu8b6jQ/s1600-h/POLA_and_sea_by_fabienbos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150624366303571266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3qxkmz-7UI/AAAAAAAAALY/nDzMSu8b6jQ/s320/POLA_and_sea_by_fabienbos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;São estranhas as comemorações de ano novo. Ver coisas queimando-se no ar. Por que será que as pessoas gostam tanto de ver as luzes a queimar alegremente e depois se apagarem e se juntarem ao resto na escuridão da meia noite? Será que são as coisas do ano que se passou, sendo queimadas e guardadas suas cinzas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O estranho é o local em que EU vi essas lembranças sendo queimadas (E acredite, foram muitas lembranças). Um local em que uma lembrança grande havia acontecido. De frente ao mar. Essa imensidão azul que esteve ao meu lado durante todo esse ano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do início... Ao fim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;"All is quiet on New Year's Day" U2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Who is it - Björk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: POLA and sea by *&lt;a class="u" href="http://fabienbos.deviantart.com/"&gt;fabienbos&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-4734348686936085984?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4734348686936085984/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4734348686936085984' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4734348686936085984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4734348686936085984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2008/01/la-nouvelle-anne.html' title='La nouvelle année'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3qxkmz-7UI/AAAAAAAAALY/nDzMSu8b6jQ/s72-c/POLA_and_sea_by_fabienbos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-8486521674073394568</id><published>2007-12-31T15:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:20.182-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resumo do ano'/><title type='text'>Resumo do ano</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3kzy2z-7TI/AAAAAAAAALQ/TXKIyj7ZpYI/s1600-h/Rainy_Day_by_m89.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150204597674896690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3kzy2z-7TI/AAAAAAAAALQ/TXKIyj7ZpYI/s320/Rainy_Day_by_m89.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Resumo do ano! Retrospectiva 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Livros lidos&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;A menina que roubava livros, O Diabo veste Prada, A moreninha, Lucíola, Os gatos de Angaetama, Harry Potter e o enígma do príncipe, Orgulho e preconceito, Dom Quixote (adaptado).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filmes assistidos (os melhores): &lt;em&gt;The Beatles: os reis do yeah yeah yeah; Meu último desejo; Antes que termine o dia; Ratatouille; Monty Phyton; A sociedade dos poetas mortos; Vênus; Orgulho e preconceito...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shows: &lt;em&gt;Nando Reis, Luiz Melodia...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teatro: &lt;em&gt;O pequeno príncipe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bandas conhecidas: &lt;em&gt;Feist, Renan Luce, Olivia Ruiz, Mika, Paolo Nutini, Azure Ray, Cinzel, The pipettes, Julie Delpy, Amy Winehouse...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontros: &lt;em&gt;Eu e Carols...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curso: &lt;em&gt;Meu perfeito curso de francês com as pessoas mais perfeitas para um curso de francês.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessoas que conheci: &lt;em&gt;Linny (blog meu-retrato), Marília (blog Agora vai), Presly e Lu (amigas da Carol), Yuri e Vítor (adoro vocês meninos)...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Músicas: &lt;em&gt;Muitas...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blá blá blá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2007 foi um ano bom. ótimo. tirando alguns acontecimentos, mas não esquecendo suas lições.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Brandy Alexander - Feist&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Deviantart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-8486521674073394568?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8486521674073394568/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=8486521674073394568' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8486521674073394568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8486521674073394568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/12/resumo-do-ano.html' title='Resumo do ano'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3kzy2z-7TI/AAAAAAAAALQ/TXKIyj7ZpYI/s72-c/Rainy_Day_by_m89.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3729824910388161024</id><published>2007-12-31T15:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:20.357-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resumo do mês'/><title type='text'>Resumo do mês</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3kvk2z-7SI/AAAAAAAAALI/S0uZOqMraUI/s1600-h/3da53a4cf62ea149.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150199959110216994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3kvk2z-7SI/AAAAAAAAALI/S0uZOqMraUI/s320/3da53a4cf62ea149.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Resumo do mês de dezembro!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Livros lidos&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;O Diabo veste Prada&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Filmes assistidos&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Capote, Alice no país das maravilhas, Monty Phyton o sentido da vida, Ratatouille, O quarteto fantástico, Spider-man 3, Orgulho e preconceito, O Grinch, Grande menina pequena mulher, Nacho Libre...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Bandas conhecidas&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Rogério Skylab&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Bons álbuns do mês&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Amy Winehouse - Back to black, Arnaldo Antunes - Qualquer, Björk - Volta...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Show&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Nando Reis dia 1º&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Saídas&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Confraternização da turma de francês; Eu, Mila e Isa depois da prova do vestibular; Eu, Mila e Isa na despedida da Mila.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Conversas legais&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Eu e Tuku sobre Onde o papai noel mora?; Eu, Vitor, Mila, Ju e Yuri perdendo aula de física.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Música que combinou&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Declare independence - Björk&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presentes: &lt;em&gt;2 diários, O menino de pijama listrado (ontem), Um colar e um par de brincos lindo da Mila...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: My moon my man - Feist&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-3729824910388161024?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3729824910388161024/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3729824910388161024' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3729824910388161024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3729824910388161024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/12/resumo-do-ms.html' title='Resumo do mês'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3kvk2z-7SI/AAAAAAAAALI/S0uZOqMraUI/s72-c/3da53a4cf62ea149.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2652636689599628789</id><published>2007-12-28T17:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:20.818-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>2008.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3VapWz-7RI/AAAAAAAAALA/80-bOtbifKc/s1600-h/papers_by_3Dosia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149121415512780050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3VapWz-7RI/AAAAAAAAALA/80-bOtbifKc/s320/papers_by_3Dosia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2007. Parece que faz pouco tempo de li o pequeno texto de Luís Fernando Veríssimo sobre o ano de 2007 no Caderno B do jornal no dia 1º de janeiro. Estava na casa de praia dos meus tios e já tinha pulado as 7 ondas com meus pedidos para o novo ano.&lt;br /&gt;2007 foi um ano para a minha história. Não só para a minha, mas para a de muita gente: Escândalos no senado; Corinthians na segunda divisão; The Police, Björk tendo shows aqui no Brasil, grande acidente aéreo, Pan no Brasil, gente se pegando na praia, ataque em universidade americana (terra de loucos fazer o quê?), Spears na área: uma anuncia que vai ganhar filhos e outra perde a guarda deles...&lt;br /&gt;1º ano no ensino médio, 1º ano no curso de francês, 1º ano fazendo teatro. 1º PSS... Foi o início para muita coisa. Conheci muitas pessoas. Umas chegaram e logo partiram, outras ficaram e parece que vão ficar por um longo tempo. Outras simplesmente partiram e não tem previsão de chegada... Foi muita coisa. Ruins, boas. As boas ficaram na lembrança, e das ruins foram tiradas lições que não serão repetidas... ou pelo menos tentarei que não sejam.&lt;br /&gt;Conheci muita, mas muita música boa: Feist, Renan Luce, Björk, Olivia Ruiz, Aldebert, The pippettes, Superbus... Muitos filmes agora com o Telecine aqui em casa. Fotolog criado... Perdi pessoas, ganhei outras...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não fazia idéia de como este ano mudaria tanto o meu trajeto. Parece que eu fiz uma cirurgia de olhos, como aquela de Minority Report. Minha visão do mundo mudou. Apesar de eu ser pequena (com meus míseros 1 metro e 58, 59), o mundo ficou pequeno para mim. Eu não saí do país, mas pareço estar muito longe de meu local de origem, do local em que vivo. É como se não fosse mais meu lugar. Ou eu não sou mais para esse lugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É como diz Björk (Wanderlust):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu perdi minha origem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E eu não quero encontrá-la de novo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prefiro navegar nas leis da natureza&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E ser preso pelas patas do oceano&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desejo de viajar!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ânsia persistente, desejo de viajar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Descascar as camadas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Até que você chegar ao núcleo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu imaginei que seria assim,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Era algo assim eu desejei,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ou eu vou querer mais?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que 2008 venha. Com mais aventuras, lições, música, filme, livros, pessoas, festas, viagens...  Porque sim. Vou querer mais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: papers by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://3dosia.deviantart.com/"&gt;3Dosia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Wanderlust - Björk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-2652636689599628789?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2652636689599628789/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2652636689599628789' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2652636689599628789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2652636689599628789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/12/2008.html' title='2008.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R3VapWz-7RI/AAAAAAAAALA/80-bOtbifKc/s72-c/papers_by_3Dosia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7362663827390653207</id><published>2007-12-07T19:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:21.034-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filmes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Janelinha 17.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R1nJulQ-_6I/AAAAAAAAAK4/PC5t81zgVHI/s1600-h/My_Christmas_tree_by_ilona.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141362251734646690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R1nJulQ-_6I/AAAAAAAAAK4/PC5t81zgVHI/s320/My_Christmas_tree_by_ilona.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Como todos nós sabemos, o Natal está batendo na porta. Só faltam 17 passinhos. Já sinto o seu espírito invadir as janelas, as frestas das portas... Muitas pessoas não sentem mais esse sentimento. Algumas acham que é apenas uma data comememorativa capitalista. Outras pessoas tem raiva do Natal porque diz que é a única época do ano em que as pessoas fazem caridades. Mas todas essas pessoas não param um pouco para pensar (Eu acho). Vamos ver: O Natal realmente foi transformado num dia capitalista, em que as pessoas só estão de olho nos presentes. Muitas pessoas decidem fazer caridade nessa época por ser a data em que Jesus nasceu e pronto. Não fazem em outros dias, além do Natal. Se reparamos, as pessoas que acham ridículo a idéia de só fazer caridade no Natal, NUNCA fazem caridade. Eu prefiro as pessoas que fazem caridade só no Natal, do que as que NUNCA fazem. As pessoas que falam que o natal só é para ganhar presentes, esperam o Natal para ganhar presentes. E só fazem reclamar e reclamar. E dizer que o papai noel é capitalista. Mas sempre esperam que o papai noel entre em suas lareiras. No caso brasileiro, embaixo das nossas árvores de plástico.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não tenho vergonha de dizer: eu ainda acredito no espírito natalino. Se vermos, todos nós ainda temos dentro de nossos corações. Bem no fundo. Eu não me importo em ganhar presentes. Eu me importo em estar junto com a minha família. Em estar trocando aquele carinho. Em estar unido. Em estar espalhando amor. Porque é isso que o mundo precisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMOR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;All we need is love&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: 2 perdidos - Arnaldo Antunes&lt;br /&gt;Foto: My Christmas tree by *&lt;a class="u" href="http://ilona.deviantart.com/"&gt;ilona&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se você ainda não encontrou o espírito do natal, eis aqui uma lista de filmes que me fazem encontrar (e episódios de séries também):&lt;br /&gt;- O Grinch - Eu SEMPRE assisto. É impossível se você é fã do Cartoon Network. Eles sempre passam.&lt;br /&gt;- Simplesmente amor - O filme se passa na época de Natal. Simplesmente perfeito.&lt;br /&gt;- O Natal de Mr. Bean - O A&amp;amp;E Mundo sempre passa os episódios de Natal. É perfeito se você gosta de natais cômicos.&lt;br /&gt;- O diário de Bridget Jones - Começa e termina na época de natal.&lt;br /&gt;- Um grande garoto - Não tem muito a ver. Mas é muito bom, e sempre me faz sentir o espírito natalino. Até os homens que se sentem uma ilha, podem sentir o natal.&lt;br /&gt;- Edward mãos de tesoura - Johnny Depp e Tim Burton, é preciso falar mais algo?&lt;br /&gt;- O estranho mundo de Jack - Triste. Mas lindo.&lt;br /&gt;- O episódio de natal do Billy e Mandy - A mamãe noel é um vampiro, e Mandy dança! Não é preciso comentar mais nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero que com essa lista, vocês encontrem o natal. Que eu já encontrei.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7362663827390653207?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7362663827390653207/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7362663827390653207' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7362663827390653207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7362663827390653207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/12/janelinha-17.html' title='Janelinha 17.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R1nJulQ-_6I/AAAAAAAAAK4/PC5t81zgVHI/s72-c/My_Christmas_tree_by_ilona.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-246395393764100196</id><published>2007-12-03T17:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:21.162-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resumo do mês'/><title type='text'>God takes care of the little things.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R1RtLVQ-_5I/AAAAAAAAAKw/qAD6eTUYerQ/s1600-R/november_2007_by_fresh4u.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139853116190949266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R1RtLVQ-_5I/AAAAAAAAAKw/SozFXvdQWt4/s320/november_2007_by_fresh4u.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Resumo do mês! Novembro! Desculpem a demora, mas desde sexta feira que não paro em casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Livros lidos&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;A menina que roubava livros&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Filmes assistidos&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;O nome da rosa, Antes do pôr-do-sol, Alta freqüencia, Meu último desejo, Simplesmente amor, Um lugar chamado Notting Hill, Bridget Jones: No limite da razão, Um grande garoto, Orgulho e preconceito, The Beatles: Os reis do yeah yeah yeah, Febre de juventude...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bandas conhecidas&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;The pipettes, Lasciva Lula&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saída legal&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Eu e Carols, Dia do Raclette na casa da Malu, despedida de Carol.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Conversas legais&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Eu, Tamara, Sofi, Mari e Natasha no colégio.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Música que combinou legal&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Suddenly I see - KT Tunstall&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Melhor compra&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;CD do The Darkness por apenas R$ 3,00!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Hugging my grudge - The boy least likely to&lt;br /&gt;Foto: november 2007 by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://fresh4u.deviantart.com/"&gt;fresh4u&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-246395393764100196?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/246395393764100196/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=246395393764100196' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/246395393764100196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/246395393764100196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/12/god-takes-care-of-little-things.html' title='God takes care of the little things.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R1RtLVQ-_5I/AAAAAAAAAKw/SozFXvdQWt4/s72-c/november_2007_by_fresh4u.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-8533280565238830718</id><published>2007-11-26T20:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T21:05:13.742-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>I'm a tiger!</title><content type='html'>Bem, não sei se vocês conhecem, mas há uma banda inglesa muito fofa. Chama-se The boy least likely to. Conheci-os ano passado, no meu último semestre no curso de inglês. Suas músicas são simplesmente fofas. Tá aí uma palavra que se encaixa perfeitamente em todas as caracteristicas da banda: fofa. Fofismo. =}&lt;br /&gt;Estava procurando as cifras das músicas, aí eu encontrei esse teste que o site deles estavam fornecendo. Só é clicar na foto. Eu sou um tigre!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theboyleastlikelyto.co.uk/quiz/" title="click here to do the best personality test ever"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.theboyleastlikelyto.co.uk/quiz/i_E.gif" title="my tiger" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Teste em inglês)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se quiser ouvir o som deles: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tknrTkxBeU"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tknrTkxBeU&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero que gostem. É simplesmente impossivel não gostar!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-8533280565238830718?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8533280565238830718/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=8533280565238830718' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8533280565238830718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8533280565238830718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-tiger.html' title='I&apos;m a tiger!'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-1061274699755837264</id><published>2007-11-25T12:43:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:21.350-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Um papel.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R0mZGL6Y0iI/AAAAAAAAAKo/FsgbBuJWheQ/s1600-h/paper_airplane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136805181548712482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R0mZGL6Y0iI/AAAAAAAAAKo/FsgbBuJWheQ/s320/paper_airplane.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tirei meu tênis e subi na árvore. Ah. Ia sentir falta daquela árvore. E por incrível que pareça, de seus cajus também. Lembrei-me de uma época em que tirávamos de 30 a 90 cajus por dia. Minha mãe já estava de saco cheio de tanto caju. De tanto fazer doce de caju. De tanto tomar suco de caju. Vou sentir saudades de sentar nesse galho quebrado e observar o céu. E de contar as estrelas daqui. Mas o meu dia chegou. E aquela era a hora de partir. Ah, como eu estava feliz com aquilo. Olhei a casa da frente. Olhei a todas as casas. Não me despedi de ninguém. Eu não queria. Ou mesmo não podia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Adeus árvore. – Eu disse. Era o único ser vivo daquele lugar que eu podia me despedir. Calcei meu velho tênis All Star.&lt;br /&gt;- Vamos? – Meu pai apareceu na porta. Era estranho ouvir aquelas palavras. Eu estava saindo de casa. Para sempre.&lt;br /&gt;- Vamos. – Respondi decidida.&lt;br /&gt;- Pegou a passagem?&lt;br /&gt;- Peguei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despedi-me de minha mãe e minha irmã. Ambas estavam em lágrimas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Calma que eu volto. – Disse sorrindo. Uma metade de meu coração queria ficar apesar de saber que meu lugar não era mais aqui.&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao chegar ao aeroporto, me despedi de meu pai.&lt;br /&gt;- Cuidado por lá filha.&lt;br /&gt;- Sim papai.&lt;br /&gt;- Qualquer coisa liga e a gente vai lá te pegar.&lt;br /&gt;- Sim papai.&lt;br /&gt;- E cuidado com esses ingleses. Eles são meio frios.&lt;br /&gt;- Sim papai.&lt;br /&gt;Trocamos olhares. Ambos com lágrimas.&lt;br /&gt;- Te amo papai.&lt;br /&gt;- Também.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não acreditava. Estava sobrevoando o Atlântico. Eu já tinha sobrevoado antes. Quando fui a Portugal e França cinco anos atrás. Mas dessa vez eu não ia ficar por 15 dias. Ia ficar por muito tempo. Talvez... Todo o tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Enquanto eu estava em cima do oceano, uma pessoa dialogava com meu pai].&lt;br /&gt;- Eu preciso falar com ela.&lt;br /&gt;- Sinto muito. Mas ela se mudou.&lt;br /&gt;- Para onde? Eu vou lá.&lt;br /&gt;- Bem, se você for, você vai precisar pegar um avião ou navio se tem medo de altura.&lt;br /&gt;- Como assim?&lt;br /&gt;- Ela está se mudando para Londres nesse exato momento. Deve estar sobrevoando o Atlântico. Mas parece-me que ela sabia que você iria passar por aqui. Então ela lhe deixou isso.&lt;br /&gt;Meu pai lhe deu um papel dobrado. Nele estava escrito:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je te quitte*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Eu te deixo. (Em francês)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nightingale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escutando: Vagalumes - O teatro mágico&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Foto: paper airplane by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://falseimagery.deviantart.com/"&gt;falseimagery&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&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/22317233-1061274699755837264?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1061274699755837264/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=1061274699755837264' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1061274699755837264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1061274699755837264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/11/um-papel.html' title='Um papel.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R0mZGL6Y0iI/AAAAAAAAAKo/FsgbBuJWheQ/s72-c/paper_airplane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7569186694496273288</id><published>2007-11-24T00:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:21.576-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Batterie Faible.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R0eZor6Y0hI/AAAAAAAAAKc/-Bh610hxcgY/s1600-h/noite23.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136242824300778002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R0eZor6Y0hI/AAAAAAAAAKc/-Bh610hxcgY/s320/noite23.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nas mais altas horas da madrugada, pego a xícara de café preto, e sento-me de frente a uma tela em branco. Encaro as palavras. Encaro a música. Encaro meu destino. Parece que estou caindo. Estou ficando totalmente longe de tudo. Estou simplesmente fora de sinal. O piano suave toca meus ouvidos como um beijo nos lábios. Uma vontade de ligar para não-sei-quem, nessas altas horas, só para conversar. Só para ouvir a voz de alguém. Não precisa ser conhecido, contanto que me escute e que fale. Meu celular está descarregando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jogo a xícara vazia na pia. Arrasto-me para o quarto. Guardo meu velho violão. Deito-me na cama fria. Enrolo-me no lençol. Fecho os olhos. E o celular mostra: Batterie Faible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Durmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O celular descarregou.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nightingale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escutando: What are you asking me? - The Village soundtrack&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7569186694496273288?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7569186694496273288/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7569186694496273288' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7569186694496273288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7569186694496273288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/11/batterie-faible.html' title='Batterie Faible.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/R0eZor6Y0hI/AAAAAAAAAKc/-Bh610hxcgY/s72-c/noite23.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2389201402839943237</id><published>2007-11-08T21:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:21.733-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Livros'/><title type='text'>Um amigo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RzOwGdUZUjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/Y6F5ZP39cBM/s1600-h/ameninaqueroubavalivros-capa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130638025501004338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RzOwGdUZUjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/Y6F5ZP39cBM/s320/ameninaqueroubavalivros-capa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Post escrito hoje pela tarde) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu nunca me senti tão apegada a um livro quanto a este que eu acabei de ler. &lt;em&gt;A menina que roubava &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;livros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, de Markus Zusak. Li as últimas palavras faz alguns segundos, e sinto uma enorme vontade de chorar. Por que o livro tinha uma última página? Por que Liesel teve que ir embora? Acho que me liguei muito ao livro pelo fato de fazer muito tempo que eu não lia um livro grande quanto ele (livros grandes me desafiam... e eu gosto disso (o livro tem aproximadamente 500 páginas)). Minto. Eu li &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter&lt;/em&gt; antes de escutar a Morte contar a história de Liesel Meminger, a menina que roubava. Porém &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter&lt;/em&gt; não prendeu minha atenção e ganhou meu coração como esse. Acho que foi amor a primeira vista. &lt;em&gt;A menina que roubava livros&lt;/em&gt;. Nome estranho para se colocar num livro. E sem contar a bela capa: a Morte segurando um guarda chuva vermelho (meu tipo de guarda-chuva favorito) no meio de um cenário nival (de neve... não sei se esse adjetivo está certo... já vi, se não esse um parecido, no livro de geografia). Esse livro foi como uma válvula de escape nos últimos dias. Ultimamente não tenho me sentido muito bem no colégio (síndrome de enjoação da cara das pessoas), e o livro foi como um amigo, a quem eu podia sempre contar. Ele me fazia mergulhar num mundo bonito (apesar de falar sobre a 2ª guerra mundial) e cheio de palavras (um adjetivo tá?). Então, se você está a procura de um bom livro, e quer aprender algumas palavras em alemão, leia &lt;em&gt;A menina que roubava livros&lt;/em&gt;, afinal: &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Quando a Morte conta uma história, você deve parar para ler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nightingale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escutando: River, sea, ocean - About a boy soundtrack&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-2389201402839943237?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2389201402839943237/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2389201402839943237' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2389201402839943237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2389201402839943237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/11/um-amigo.html' title='Um amigo...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RzOwGdUZUjI/AAAAAAAAAKU/Y6F5ZP39cBM/s72-c/ameninaqueroubavalivros-capa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-9083765775866982410</id><published>2007-11-08T13:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:21.972-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Nachtrauern...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RzM7JtUZUiI/AAAAAAAAAKM/iwRXDc4ccZM/s1600-h/Broken_True__by_TheNightSheDied.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130509438475129378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RzM7JtUZUiI/AAAAAAAAAKM/iwRXDc4ccZM/s320/Broken_True__by_TheNightSheDied.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Eu não agüentava mais guardar aquilo dentro de mim. Eu sentia a necessidade de esvaziar minha mente. Não sou muito religiosa, mas decidi ir para a igreja. Fui a catedral. Aquele imenso prédio me fazia sentir menor que uma formiga: pequena, impotente e fraca. Subi as escadas muito devagar. Não encontrava forças o suficiente para levantar minhas pernas e pisar no chão frio. Era meia-noite. Ao cruzar a entrada daquela casa de santos, o vento gélido cortou meu corpo e perfurou minhas entranhas. Ali já começava meu castigo. Pude ver o confessionário escuro no canto. Dirigi meus passos, passando pelas velas simples que alimentavam as chamas dos pedidos dos cristãos. Entrei no confessionário e pude ver através das pequenas entradas da madeira, o padre a roncar. Fingi não saber que ele sonhava com o amor de sua infância:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Boa noite pai. Não sei se sou bem vinda a tua casa, mas preciso, necessito me confessar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Tu és filha de Deus ó menina. És bem vinda na casa de teu criador.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Ó pai. Perdoa-me. Sou a pior de nossa espécie.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Mas o que houve ó menina? Diga-me o porquê dessa tua conclusão.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Ó pai. Eu matei. Eu assassinei aquele a quem tantos amam.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Mas filha, por que fizeste isso? Quem mataste?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Eu matei por fraqueza pai. Perdoe-me. Ainda hoje bebo o sangue de minha vítima.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Quem mataste minha menina?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- A amizade meu pai. A amizade.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E no fim dessas palavras, o mundo caiu em ruínas.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nightingale&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Escutando: Je te quitte (ou De toi a moi II) - Olivia Ruiz&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Foto: Broken True. by =&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a class="u" href="http://thenightshedied.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;TheNightSheDied&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; (&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Deviantart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Why would I want to see you now?... To fix it up, make it up somehow... I die every night, every time..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-9083765775866982410?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/9083765775866982410/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=9083765775866982410' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/9083765775866982410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/9083765775866982410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/11/eu-no-agentava-mais-guardar-aquilo.html' title='Nachtrauern...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RzM7JtUZUiI/AAAAAAAAAKM/iwRXDc4ccZM/s72-c/Broken_True__by_TheNightSheDied.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7218962857550974805</id><published>2007-11-03T15:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:22.085-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Yesterday...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Ryy-ddSAqeI/AAAAAAAAAKE/duYucU2gYnI/s1600-h/The_Beatles_by_crayonattack.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128683488953805282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Ryy-ddSAqeI/AAAAAAAAAKE/duYucU2gYnI/s320/The_Beatles_by_crayonattack.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Eu pretendia escrever esse post mais tarde, mas essa semana, no meu trajeto casa-reitoria (onde tenho meu curso de francês), pude ver as entradas das lojas brilhando com os pisca-piscas, papais-noéis (isso ta certo?) preparando seus trenós e renas guiando seu caminho. Foi aí que me dei conta: Já estamos no fim do ano! ‘Jesus, Maria e José’ como diz Rosa Hubberman do livro &lt;em&gt;A menina que roubava livros&lt;/em&gt;. Esse ano passou MUITO rápido. Não é impressão porque o fim do ano está próximo. É fato. Parece que foi ontem o reveillon na praia; que eu fui comprar meu material escolar; que eu passei as férias no cinema... Falta 1 mês e alguns dias para o meu aniversário. 16 anos. Parece que foi semana passada minha festa de 15. Nem parece que já estou no 2º semestre do meu curso de francês. Mon dieu! O céu já tem espírito de fim de ano... O acordar do sol já bate no meu quarto. Fim de semana passado, minha mãe e minha avó estavam cozinhando na cozinha, e por um momento eu pensava que elas já estavam preparando o frango da ceia de natal. As provas do 4º bimestre já estão na porta! Tudo passou num piscar de olhos... Tanto coisa aconteceu... E parece que o windows media player sentiu meu sentimento: está tocando &lt;em&gt;Yesterday&lt;/em&gt; dos &lt;em&gt;Beatles&lt;/em&gt;. Vou terminar com a música então. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Yesterday... All my troubles seemed so far away... Now it looks as though they're here to stay... Oh, I believe... In yesterday... Suddenly... I'm not half the man I used to be... There's a shadow hanging over me... Oh, yesterday... Came suddenly... Why she... Had to go I don't know... She wouldn't say... I said... Something wrong now I long... For yesterday... Yesterday... Love was such an easy game to play... Now I need a place to hide away... Oh, I believe... In yesterday... Why she... Had to go I don't know... She wouldn't say... I said... Something wrong now I long... For yesterday... Yesterday... Love was such an easy game to play... Now I need a place to hide away... Oh, I believe... In yesterday... (hum to "I believe in yesterday"&lt;/em&gt;)"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yesterday - The Beatles (Written by Lennon / McCartney)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nightingale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escutando: Hyperballad - Björk&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Foto: The Beatles by ~&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a class="u" href="http://crayonattack.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;crayonattack&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7218962857550974805?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7218962857550974805/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7218962857550974805' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7218962857550974805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7218962857550974805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/11/yesterday.html' title='Yesterday...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Ryy-ddSAqeI/AAAAAAAAAKE/duYucU2gYnI/s72-c/The_Beatles_by_crayonattack.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-5496798071778340774</id><published>2007-11-01T20:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:22.281-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resumo do mês'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Muitas vezes é difícil...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RypnbNSAqdI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/14twuhEe5GE/s1600-h/defective_october_by_tangerineskin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128024842834061778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RypnbNSAqdI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/14twuhEe5GE/s320/defective_october_by_tangerineskin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Resumo do mês! Atrasado um dia... Mas chegou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Livros lidos: &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter e as relíquias da morte (ou mortais, não sei. Só sei que é o 7º e último de toda a série).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Filmes assistidos: &lt;em&gt;Antes do amanhecer, Bonecas Russas, Pocahontas, O corcunda de notre dame, Mulan, High School Musical 2 (não gostei, prefiro o primeiro), Hair (filme muito bom de hippies), Apenas amigos, Abracadabra...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bandas conhecidas: &lt;em&gt;Julie Delpy, Feist (Já citei anteriormente?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Saída legal: &lt;em&gt;Dia do professor com o pessoal do francês&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Viagem: &lt;em&gt;Bonito - Pernambuco &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Conversa legal: &lt;em&gt;Esperando as aulas de BDA no colégio: Eu, Mila, Ariana, Tata e Sofi.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Música que combinou legal: &lt;em&gt;So sorry - Feist&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nightingale&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Escutando: A minor incident - About a boy soundtrack&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Foto: defective october by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://tangerineskin.deviantart.com/"&gt;tangerineskin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S. Ontem, foi um dos Halloweens mais triste da minha vida...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-5496798071778340774?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5496798071778340774/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=5496798071778340774' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5496798071778340774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5496798071778340774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/11/muitas-vezes-difcil.html' title='Muitas vezes é difícil...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RypnbNSAqdI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/14twuhEe5GE/s72-c/defective_october_by_tangerineskin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-1062316803741433826</id><published>2007-10-30T15:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:22.517-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>"Why would he come back through the park"...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Ryd-_NSAqcI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/jiKfjb1VACM/s1600-h/Giant_Wheel_II_by_AngelofAiden.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127206325146659266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Ryd-_NSAqcI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/jiKfjb1VACM/s320/Giant_Wheel_II_by_AngelofAiden.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hoje tive vontade de ir a um parque de diversão. Não daqueles gigantescos. Queria ir naqueles simples mesmo. Aqueles de interior, sabe? Que tem rodas gigantes magras, mas que quando estou no topo, posso ver aquele horizonte distante e os pinguinhos de luz nas casinhas longe. Queria ir no carrossel, para cavalgar nos cavalos imóveis que me levam para as terras mais longinquas. Ir no bate-bate, pegar aquele carrinho inquebrável e dirigir sem destino. Ir no pula-pula, pular e pular para alcançar o céu e tocar a estrelinha mais distante. Comer uma maçã do amor, e ganhar um beijo doce de um amor fantasma.&lt;br /&gt;Ah...&lt;br /&gt;Queria ir ao parque...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: How my heart behaves - Feist&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Giant Wheel II by &lt;a class="u" href="http://angelofaiden.deviantart.com/"&gt;AngelofAiden&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-1062316803741433826?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1062316803741433826/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=1062316803741433826' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1062316803741433826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1062316803741433826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/why-would-he-come-back-through-park.html' title='&quot;Why would he come back through the park&quot;...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Ryd-_NSAqcI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/jiKfjb1VACM/s72-c/Giant_Wheel_II_by_AngelofAiden.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7279272449878352300</id><published>2007-10-29T19:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:22.756-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>For a while...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RyZjNdSAqbI/AAAAAAAAAJs/yd-rTzSkx-c/s1600-h/sun_behind_dark_a_cloud_by_res_res.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126894308657506738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RyZjNdSAqbI/AAAAAAAAAJs/yd-rTzSkx-c/s320/sun_behind_dark_a_cloud_by_res_res.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Nas primeiras luzes da manhã de segunda, enquanto sentia gotinhas d'água a tocar meu corpo, pide ver uma grande nuvem cinzenta cobrir o céu e tapar os raios solares. Um desespero tomou conta de mim. Foi como se fosse o fim do mundo. Uma vontade de chorar brotou em meus olhos. A única coisa que eu queria fazer era correr para o meu quarto e mergulhar dentro dos lençóis. Me esconder. Fugir. De quê? Não sabia. De quem? Também não fazia idéia. Infelizmente, eu não podia fugir. Eu tinha que sair. Tinha que enfrentar minha batalha. Saí. Ao entrar naquela sala, meu corpo sentou-se na cadeira fria, mas minha mente flutuava nas nuvens que eu não via fora da janela fechada. Eu dizia para mim:&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Preste atenção na aula. Você consegue. Você é capaz...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas meu outro eu contradizia:&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Não... Você é fraca demais. Não consegue atingir seus objetivos. Não consegue o que desejas... E quando consegue, joga janela afora.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era a batalha dentro de mim. O ano e o demônio. A batalha que eu nunca havia entendido, e que o clímax está acontecendo. Eu só fiz me afundar na cadeira, mergulhar no livro e me distanciar de tudo aquilo. Me perguntei se aquilo era a melhor forma de fugir. Se fugir era a melhor fuga. Se era a melhor resposta. A melhor ação. Foi quando a nuvem saiu da frente do sol, e a batalha cessou...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por enquanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: The water - Feist&lt;br /&gt;Foto:  sun behind dark a cloud by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://res-res.deviantart.com/"&gt;res-res&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7279272449878352300?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7279272449878352300/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7279272449878352300' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7279272449878352300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7279272449878352300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/for-while.html' title='For a while...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RyZjNdSAqbI/AAAAAAAAAJs/yd-rTzSkx-c/s72-c/sun_behind_dark_a_cloud_by_res_res.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-5337006568549282821</id><published>2007-10-28T21:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:23.121-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Estátua</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RyUpB9SAqaI/AAAAAAAAAJk/B8SY5XDqDXQ/s1600-h/I_Try_to_Hide_by_piratedollie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126548864437889442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RyUpB9SAqaI/AAAAAAAAAJk/B8SY5XDqDXQ/s320/I_Try_to_Hide_by_piratedollie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lá eu estava. Parada. Não podia me mexer. Não conseguia me mexer. Parada feito uma estátua. A música rolava no som ao meu lado, e os pensamentos corriam em minha mente que flutuava na manhã de primavera. De repente pude ver, lágrimas escorriam de meu rosto. Não eram rios sigilosos a escorrerem sobre uma pedra. Era uma cachoeira. O encontro violento do rio e do mar. Vejo que ele está se aproximando de mim. Ele examina cuidadosamente a estátua ao meu lado. Por que eu estou com medo? Eu não sinto nada por ele. Eu sentia. Há dez anos atrás. Poxa. É muito tempo. Como pode um sentimento de dez anos surgir novamente? Não. Eu não sinto nada por ele. E por que um fervor crescia em mim? Ele chegou perto. Olhou-me. As lágrimas ainda escorriam de meu rosto. Borravam a maquiagem do palhaço. Tirando a alegria de seu sorriso, e mostrando as dores de seu coração.&lt;br /&gt;- Por que você está chorando?&lt;br /&gt;Eu nada conseguia dizer. Só via as lágrimas a pingarem de meu rosto frio.&lt;br /&gt;- Por que choras?&lt;br /&gt;Eu não conseguia responder. Só conseguia lembrar de meus mal passos. Tudo aquilo estava me fazendo ficar confusa. Onde eu estava? Será que eu tinha morrido? De quem eu estava fugindo? De quem eu quero me esconder? E aí eu respondo:&lt;br /&gt;- Por que eu choro? Porque eu quero me esconder de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Sleep - Azure Ray&lt;br /&gt;Foto: I Try to Hide by &lt;a class="u" href="http://piratedollie.deviantart.com/"&gt;piratedollie&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-5337006568549282821?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5337006568549282821/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=5337006568549282821' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5337006568549282821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5337006568549282821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/esttua.html' title='Estátua'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RyUpB9SAqaI/AAAAAAAAAJk/B8SY5XDqDXQ/s72-c/I_Try_to_Hide_by_piratedollie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-8565239987175836227</id><published>2007-10-20T21:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:23.289-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>TPM?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rxqa2KEMt-I/AAAAAAAAAJc/djxwagjNxYc/s1600-h/Crazy_Woman_by_iisamii.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123577781292939234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rxqa2KEMt-I/AAAAAAAAAJc/djxwagjNxYc/s320/Crazy_Woman_by_iisamii.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sabe aqueles dias em que você acorda de mal com a vida? Vamos, nós mulheres sabemos muito bem desses dias. Blah! Que saco. Os dias já acordam ruins. Você nem tem coragem de abrir os olhos. Muito menos de olhar se o dia acordou nublado ou se o sol está mostrando seus raios claros. Daí você se levanta arrastando seus pés até o banheiro... AAAAAAHHHH! Se depara com uma mulher horrível no espelho. "Quem é essa ridícula?" E aí você chega a resposta. "Sou eu." Você fica com raiva do seu corpo. Em tudo você acha defeito: você está gorda demais, tá parecendo a própria Moby Dick; seu cabelo tá um lixo; o rosto está cheio de acne ou mesmo espinhas... Ou seja, você está um pedaço de merda e a única coisa que você queria fazer era mergulhar na cama novamente e fingir que tudo isso é um sonho. Sonho não. Pesadelo. Mas não. Você não pode voltar para o sono e se esconder das pessoas, se esconder do mundo. Você tem aula. Ah. Tudo bem. As aulas de terça feira são boas... Mas aí você lembra: "Hoje não tem só aula. Tem prova! E não é qualquer prova. É a prova de matemática!" Matemática. Logo aquela matéria que você está mais ferrada. Pronto. Mais um item para colocar na lista de Por que se suicidar. Você começa a lembrar de todos os seus erros mais graves. De como você já feriu tantas pessoas. Tantas pessoas que você tanto amava mas não sabia como mostrar esse seu amor. Mas ainda assim você pensa nas pessoas que não merecem seus pensamentos. Mas elas não saem de sua cabeça! É como um vício... Um vício que você simplesmente não consegue deixar. Você escuta as músicas que foram trilha sonora daquela época em que você se achava forte. Nada podia te deixar cair. Daquela época que parece que já se passaram anos, mas quando você vê, só se passaram 4 meses... Você tem uma vontade de explodir. De saber o que acontece depois de você se atirar de um abismo. E depois, para piorar, você lembra que você está sozinha. Não. Não tem ninguém para dormir ao teu lado e dizer que tudo não passou de um pesadelo. De que você não é um monstro e sim a mais bela flor. Para dizer que todos erram e um dia você, que tanto errou, pode receber seu perdão. Que não se preocupe com a prova, que você é inteligente, não há para quê se preocupar. Ai... Você vê que aquela mulher que você pensava ser forte e imbativel 4 meses atrás, não passa de uma menina fraca. Mais fraca que a pétala de uma flor a se despedaçar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: I was here - Renan Luce&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Crazy Woman by &lt;a class="u" href="http://iisamii.deviantart.com/"&gt;iisamii&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-8565239987175836227?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8565239987175836227/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=8565239987175836227' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8565239987175836227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8565239987175836227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/tpm.html' title='TPM?'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rxqa2KEMt-I/AAAAAAAAAJc/djxwagjNxYc/s72-c/Crazy_Woman_by_iisamii.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3533622229701353735</id><published>2007-10-14T21:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:23.448-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feriado'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Viagem'/><title type='text'>Longe de tudo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RxK3C-NNz4I/AAAAAAAAAJU/Fl80qKmgwCk/s1600-h/IMG_0054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121356987959725954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RxK3C-NNz4I/AAAAAAAAAJU/Fl80qKmgwCk/s320/IMG_0054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Eita feriado bom. Essa foto foi tirada em Bonito, Pernambuco. Se puderem, visitem o lugar. É perfeito. Se você quiser realmente relaxar. Lá só pega celular TIM, não tem televisão (não tem sinal), não tem rádio... É... Bonito!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1º dia de viagem:&lt;br /&gt;Minha viagem começa mais ou menos às 8 da manhã quando deixo minha casa para cair na estrada. O céu aberto e o sol brilhando em meu rosto. No som do carro: Amy Winehouse! Ótemo. Tirando fotos ao longo da estrada (colocando no meu &lt;a href="http://www.fotolog.com/bro_o"&gt;fotolog&lt;/a&gt;). O hotel que eu fiquei é totalmente longe da civilização. A cachoeira (que se encontra dentro do hotel) é linda. A primeira coisa que fizemos, foi colocar nossas roupas de banho e cair no rio! Brrr! Água fria! Parecia que tinham jogado a água da geladeira. O almoço que serviam... Simplesmente fabuloso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2º dia de viagem:&lt;br /&gt;Trilha! Passei 4 horas andando. Provavelmente queimei muitas calorias adquiridas no almoço e jantar do dia anterior. Visitamos uma cachoeira linda. E devo dizer: o nosso guia era bem fofinho também... Pense num corpinho quando ele entrou na cachoeira...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3º e último dia de viagem:&lt;br /&gt;Último dia só para tomar mais alguns banhos na cachoeira. Nadei feito índia no rio... Tão gelado. Mas quando entrava... Ai que bom... A volta foi marcada pelo sol se pondo no horizonte. Essa viagem não poderia ser melhor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: The limit to your love - Feist&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Cachoeira em Bonito - Eu tirei!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-3533622229701353735?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3533622229701353735/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3533622229701353735' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3533622229701353735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3533622229701353735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/longe-de-tudo.html' title='Longe de tudo.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RxK3C-NNz4I/AAAAAAAAAJU/Fl80qKmgwCk/s72-c/IMG_0054.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-803075194693198273</id><published>2007-10-11T22:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:23.626-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Dias...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rw7SCONNz3I/AAAAAAAAAJM/VJASoFwEJFU/s1600-h/Days_of_Fog_V_by_drakosha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120260761981931378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rw7SCONNz3I/AAAAAAAAAJM/VJASoFwEJFU/s320/Days_of_Fog_V_by_drakosha.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Eu não consigo dormir.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não consigo¹.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São tantas coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Uma sai atropelando outra.&lt;br /&gt;São tantos dias.&lt;br /&gt;Um sai lembrando outros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São tantas coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Que me perco todos os dias.&lt;br /&gt;São tantos dias.&lt;br /&gt;Que me atiro em tanta coisa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São tantas coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Que só faz me lembrar daqueles sentimentos.&lt;br /&gt;São tantos dias.&lt;br /&gt;Que fazem voltar àqueles sentimentos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São tantas coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Com tantas pessoas, com tantos lugares.&lt;br /&gt;São tantos dias.&lt;br /&gt;Que em todos os que passam eu me sinto sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E por incrível que pareça,&lt;br /&gt;Com toda essa melancolia,&lt;br /&gt;Parece-me,&lt;br /&gt;Que estou me encontrando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;¹ - Música Sleep do Azure Ray.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escrevi mês passado. Quando minha mente estava num grande e complicado labirinto. Do fim do mês para outubro, foi como uma lâmpada iluminando um quarto escuro. Seí lá o que deu em mim. Mas parece que tudo se clareou mais e as coisas estão andando tranquilamente. Estudando bastante para o PSS que está chegando aí, lendo meus livros, escutando muita música boa, assistindo muito filme bom... Conhecendo várias pessoas muito legais atraves do blog. Estou bem feliz. " &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Vem pra se arrumar na minha confusão, vem querendo ser feliz!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. Estarei longe por 3 dias. Estarei viajando. Quando eu chegar, posto aqui sobre a viagem e mostro as fotos que irei tirar. Beijo para todos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: One Two Three Four - Feist&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Days of Fog V by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://drakosha.deviantart.com/"&gt;drakosha&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.devianart.com/"&gt;Devianart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Comendo: Bombom de chocolate com recheio de leite condensado. Très bien!&lt;/div&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/22317233-803075194693198273?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/803075194693198273/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=803075194693198273' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/803075194693198273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/803075194693198273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/dias.html' title='Dias...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rw7SCONNz3I/AAAAAAAAAJM/VJASoFwEJFU/s72-c/Days_of_Fog_V_by_drakosha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3159297557295548085</id><published>2007-10-08T19:32:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:23.808-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Nothing's forever.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RwqxiONNz2I/AAAAAAAAAJA/O5lO44lC9ss/s1600-h/forever______by_cela_me_va_bien.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119099127947186018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RwqxiONNz2I/AAAAAAAAAJA/O5lO44lC9ss/s320/forever______by_cela_me_va_bien.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Certa vez, Mário Quintana escreveu a seguinte frase: "&lt;em&gt;As únicas coisas eternas são as nuvens...&lt;/em&gt;". Sim. Concordo com ele ao dizer que nada é eterno. E discordo quanto as nuvens, pois nem elas são eternas. Quando chove, elas deixam de ser nuvens e se tornam gotinhas d'água a cair em nossas cabeças. Semana passada, eu li no blog da Linny (beijo flor!), coisas para sempre e tal. Quando estamos apaixonados, nossas mentes ficam voando alegremente. Num mundo para sempre. Parece filme de conto de fada: "&lt;em&gt;E viveram felizes para sempre...&lt;/em&gt;" A noite é eterna, o beijo, os olhos do amado... Não é querendo ser pessimista, mas para mim, nada disso mais existe. "&lt;em&gt;Se lembra quando a gente, chegou um dia acreditar, que tudo era pra sempre, sem saber, que o pra sempre, sempre acaba.&lt;/em&gt;" Foi o que a Eller disse uma vez. E hoje, é nela que eu acredito. Nçao me prendo mais a nada. Não me prendo mais a ninguém. Pois nada mais é eterno. Anitelli diz:" &lt;em&gt;Não há de ser nada, pois sei que a madrugada acaba quando a lua se põe&lt;/em&gt;". O dia termina quando o sol se põe. O verão acaba quando o outono mostra as primeiras folhas a cair. O ano acaba quando os fogos sobem aos céus. O livro acaba quando a última página é lida. O chocolate termina quando o último pedaço é engolido. Como diz a lei de Lavoisier: "&lt;em&gt;Na natureza nada se cria, nada se perde, tudo se transforma&lt;/em&gt;". Se transforma, e já deixa de ser eterno. Escrevendo isso, me lembrei do filme Dançando no escuro, com a Björk. Esse filme diz: "&lt;em&gt;They say it's the last song. They don't know us, you see. It's only the last song if we let it be&lt;/em&gt;". Quando eu escrevi esse post, eu pensei em ainda deixar palavras de que o eterno não existe. E essa é a verdade. Mas existe um segredo: enganar o fim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: My dear friend - Julie Delpy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: forever....? by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://cela-me-va-bien.deviantart.com/"&gt;cela-me-va-bien&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.devianart.com/"&gt;Devianart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-3159297557295548085?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3159297557295548085/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3159297557295548085' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3159297557295548085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3159297557295548085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/nothings-forever.html' title='Nothing&apos;s forever.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RwqxiONNz2I/AAAAAAAAAJA/O5lO44lC9ss/s72-c/forever______by_cela_me_va_bien.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-6614270121417659432</id><published>2007-10-01T19:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:24.047-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>"Palavras de baixo calão"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RwF8Q-NNz1I/AAAAAAAAAI4/SvPazjwGs6I/s1600-h/Dirty__by_so_pretty_when_I_cry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116507282687774546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RwF8Q-NNz1I/AAAAAAAAAI4/SvPazjwGs6I/s320/Dirty__by_so_pretty_when_I_cry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hoje me deu vontade de falar palavrão, ou (bonitamente falando) palavras de baixo calão. Não meros palavrões como: vá tomar no cú, puta que pariu, caralho, merda e vários outros de origem obscena. Não. Palavrões. Verdadeiros palavrões. "Vá tomar no cú" nem é mais tão pesado depois daquele hit que todo mundo agora escuta. "Puta que pariu" nem tem mais graça. "Caralho" ouvimos todos os dias. Então, arranjei novos palavrões (Literalmente). Veja o meu novo vocabulário de palavrões:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ao invés de dizer o chato 'Vá tomar no cú', diga: Vá tomar cetilpiridíneo vá!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Não existe mais o "puta que pariu!", e sim: Mande sua mãe pra metilparabeno!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;"Caralho" não! Diga: Methychloroisothiazolinone ou até mesmo Pneumoultramicroscopicossilicovulcanoconiótico!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;"Merda" isso é passado. A onda agora é: Hipopotomonstrosesquipedaliofobia, ou, Anticonstitucionalissimamente.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Outras palavras bem legais também são: paralelepípedo, paralepipedozinho, parelepipedozão, Oftalmotorrinolaringologista, tetrabromometacresolsulfonoftaleína...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Espero que tenham gostado desse meu novo vocabulário para palavras de baixo calão. Se alguém te xingar, seja inteligente, diga: Eu espero que você tenha Pneumoultramicroscopicossilicovulcanoconiose!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nightingale &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Escutando - Nobody's wife - Anouk&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Foto:Dirty by *&lt;a class="u" href="http://so-pretty-when-i-cry.deviantart.com/"&gt;so-pretty-when-I-cry&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-6614270121417659432?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6614270121417659432/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=6614270121417659432' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6614270121417659432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6614270121417659432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/10/palavras-de-baixo-calo.html' title='&quot;Palavras de baixo calão&quot;'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RwF8Q-NNz1I/AAAAAAAAAI4/SvPazjwGs6I/s72-c/Dirty__by_so_pretty_when_I_cry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-5250727149695688949</id><published>2007-09-30T18:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:24.286-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resumo do mês'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>A felicidade está batendo na minha porta. Espera que eu vou atender.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RwAb1ONNz0I/AAAAAAAAAIw/vF_HSwfWHZk/s1600-h/clown_by_solocosmo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116119777853427522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RwAb1ONNz0I/AAAAAAAAAIw/vF_HSwfWHZk/s320/clown_by_solocosmo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Resumo do mês!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Livros lidos: &lt;em&gt;Lucíola (Não gostei.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Filmes assistidos: &lt;em&gt;Antes que termine o dia, As brumas de Avalon, A sociedade dos Poetas mortos, High School Musical (amei!), Jogo Mortal, Lisbela e o Prisioneiro, O incríveis (de novo), Deixe-me viver (um dos meus filmes favoritos)...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bandas conhecidas: &lt;em&gt;Maidi Roth, Matt Wertz, Amy Winehouse&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saída legal: &lt;em&gt;Aniversário da Malu e festinha lá no francês&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Viagem: &lt;em&gt;Penedo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Show: &lt;em&gt;Encoral 2007 (Lindo!)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Conversa legal: &lt;em&gt;No telefone com a Carol... Durou um bom tempo. E só depois vim saber que agora a conta de telefone é contada por minuto. =x&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Frases: "&lt;em&gt;A felicidade está batendo na minha porta. Espera que eu vou atender&lt;/em&gt;.", "&lt;em&gt;E hoje eu fui ver o Mar. E não é que o Mar sabe sambar? &lt;/em&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Música que combinou legal: &lt;em&gt;Camarada d'água - O Teatro mágico&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Human Behavior - Björk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Clown by solocosmo (&lt;a href="http://www.devianart.com/"&gt;Devianart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-5250727149695688949?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5250727149695688949/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=5250727149695688949' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5250727149695688949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5250727149695688949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/felicidade-est-batendo-na-minha-porta.html' title='A felicidade está batendo na minha porta. Espera que eu vou atender.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RwAb1ONNz0I/AAAAAAAAAIw/vF_HSwfWHZk/s72-c/clown_by_solocosmo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-6498667980791414423</id><published>2007-09-26T21:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:24.395-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>O mundo já está pequeno para mim... Mesmo para uma pequenina... Como eu.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rvr1_-NNzzI/AAAAAAAAAIo/10WeaLY_zAM/s1600-h/Draw_Me_The_World_by_stickersticker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114670806211612466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rvr1_-NNzzI/AAAAAAAAAIo/10WeaLY_zAM/s320/Draw_Me_The_World_by_stickersticker.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;Dizem que quando fazemos algo que não gostamos, o tempo passa devagar. E quando fazemos algo que gostamos ou quando estamos com alguém especial, o tempo passa voando. As últimas manhãs de minha vida, estão passando lentamente... Uma lesminha... As tardes e as noites voam feito águias a cortar os céus (e estes estão mais azuis que nunca!). Não sei porque falei isso. Deu vontade de comentar. Mas o que tenho mais pensado, é: como o mundo é pequeno. Alguns anos atrás, a minha mesa era enorme! Hoje, ela não passa de uma pequena mesa. Está tudo bem menor. O mundo, a minha mesa... A minha cama! E é tão pequeno, que num dia você sabe algo de alguém, no outro, você descobre outras coisas sobre essa pessoa, que muda totalmente sua visão. Anos agora são meses. Meses são dias. Minutos, segundos. Mesmo para um pinguinho de gente (eu, com meu 1 metro e 58 centímetros), está tudo tão menor... Só sou eu quem pensa assim, ou todo mundo passa por isso? Que o mundo cresça! E que eu cresça também...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;A felicidade está batendo na minha porta, peraí que eu vou atender.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Ciao Bella - Rose&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Draw Me The World by &lt;a class="u" href="http://stickersticker.deviantart.com/"&gt;stickersticker&lt;/a&gt; (Devianart)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-6498667980791414423?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6498667980791414423/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=6498667980791414423' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6498667980791414423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6498667980791414423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/o-mundo-j-est-pequeno-para-mim-mesmo.html' title='O mundo já está pequeno para mim... Mesmo para uma pequenina... Como eu.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rvr1_-NNzzI/AAAAAAAAAIo/10WeaLY_zAM/s72-c/Draw_Me_The_World_by_stickersticker.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-6319588463304658409</id><published>2007-09-25T21:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:24.526-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Viagem'/><title type='text'>Lua saltitante</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rvmn3-NNzyI/AAAAAAAAAIg/uGsThYAFe3M/s1600-h/Penedo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114303431888981794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rvmn3-NNzyI/AAAAAAAAAIg/uGsThYAFe3M/s320/Penedo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 7:00 da manhã. Ônibus já cheio. Excursão! Nada melhor que uma viagem (mesmo que de 1 dia) com a galera. Tudo na mochila: água, MP3, biscoitos, brownie... Foi comigo pulando animada no corredor do ônibus que começamos viagem... Que começou a ficar legal quando saímos da cidade. Pegamos o caminho do litoral. O sol já brilhava alto no céu azul e limpo. O mar brincava num dia tão lindo. Primeiro CD: Los Hermanos. Um milagre, já que nessas excursões só tem brega. Mas continuando o relatório de viagem, cantei e pulei com uns novos amigos. Já que a galera não estava muito feliz com os Hermanos, coloquei uma coletânea com Ana Carolina, Adriana Calcanhotto, Cásia Eller e Marisa Monte. Muito bom. Todos gostaram (Graças a Deus). Pude ver o mar azul num horizonte distante. Os coqueirais acompanhavam a estrada, e podíamos observar casinhas ao longe. Sentei um pouco comigo mesma. Peguei o diário mas não consegui escrever muita coisa. A vista para o oceano me roubava a atenção. Finalmente chegamos ao nosso destino. Ao chegar no início da cidade, pude ver casas com uma arquitetura linda! Tinha até uma à venda. Precisava de uma bela reforma. Quem sabe se um dia eu vou lá e compro? Ao descer do ônibus, nos deparamos com um clima de 40º graus. Imagine. Acho que dava para fritar ovos nas pedras do chão. Mas esse problema da temperatura foi logo esquecido quando vimos o que tinha atrás do museu em que paramos: uma linda e maravilhosa vista para o rio que banha o nordeste brasileiro: o velho Chico, geograficamente falando, o Rio São Francisco. De um lado Alagoas, de outro Sergipe. Pescadores a procurar seu sustento no meio de um mundo d'água. Lindas igrejas com suas estatuas folheadas a ouro. O almoço (uma das melhores partes do dia): filé de carne com cebolas, arroz, um feijão muito bom, vinagrete e uma boa farofa. Balsa! Atravessamos o rio seguindo para Sergipe. Mas me deu uma vontade de mergulhar ali no meio do rio e me refrescar naquela água tão linda. Depois de uma olhada no centro de artesanato da pequena cidade de Sergipe, voltamos a balsa, e para Alagoas. Mais um igreja, mais um museu e tomamos nosso caminho para casa. A lua crescente já se mostrava no céu do pôr-do-sol. No meio de brincadeiras, vimos a lua iluminando a praia distante... E assim chegamos em casa. Cansados, mas muito felizes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Se lembra quando a gente chegou um dia acreditar/Que tudo era pra sempre, sem saber/Que o pra sempre, sempre acaba... Mesmo com tantos motivos pra deixar tudo como está/Nem desistir nem tentar agora tanto faz/Estamos indo de volta pra casa...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/p&gt;Escutando: Na varanda - O Teatro mágico&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Em Penedo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-6319588463304658409?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6319588463304658409/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=6319588463304658409' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6319588463304658409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6319588463304658409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/lua-saltitante.html' title='Lua saltitante'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rvmn3-NNzyI/AAAAAAAAAIg/uGsThYAFe3M/s72-c/Penedo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-998325158173318625</id><published>2007-09-24T18:32:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:24.671-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Vamos fumar cigarro de orégano?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RvgtpeNNzxI/AAAAAAAAAIY/sQ7NgoFKEwU/s1600-h/Digitalizar0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113887567385579282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RvgtpeNNzxI/AAAAAAAAAIY/sQ7NgoFKEwU/s320/Digitalizar0001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tarde cheia no colégio. Os números me perseguindo: matemática... física... E 'O teatro mágico' a cantar em meus ouvidos, a escrever versos na mesa, e a dançar quieta na alma. Fiquei feliz. Mesmo com os números a pular na minha frente. Essas felicidades que aparecem de repente. Ao sair do colégio (já eram umas 5 e meia), a lua crescente brilhava prateada no céu. "Olha como a Lua tá linda gente!" Comentei com algumas amigas. "Uiva pra ela pô!" E não é que eu uivei? Essas felicidades repentinas são as melhores. Fazemos o que bem entendemos, o que bem gostamos... É tão bom. Ônibus vazio, ou seja, tive um lugar para sentar. Muito difícil para o horário. Coloquei o MP3 no ouvido, e o que passa? "&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Camarada d'água... Fique peixe de manhã de madrugada fique toda hora que for!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;". Todo o meu trajeto Colégio - Casa, a cantar melodias tão lindas. Ao chegar na esquina de casa, vejo o céu. A luz da lua refletia numa pocinha d'água que estava no barro da rua. As estrelinhas brilhavam felizes. Pensei comigo. Por que ir para casa agora, se posso dar umas voltinhas na praça e admirar mais a noite? Segui direto na rua molhada. O vento nem era tão forte. No começo andava depressa. Para quê? Reduzi minha velocidade e tomei leves passos. &lt;em&gt;Cuida de mim&lt;/em&gt; agora passava no MP3. As nuvens estavam meladas de um suave prata. As estrelinhas pareciam pisca-pisca do natal. As pessoas que passavam por perto tinham pressa. Pensavam em seus problemas, em contas a pagar, quanto faltava para acabar aquela caminhada... Enquanto eu pensava em verbo, poesia, saudades... Era engraçado ver todos eles nadando contra a corrente, enquanto eu nadava com ela. Vi vagalumes!!! Fazia um bom tempo que não via... Brilhando no escuro da noite... Pude observar a primavera: flores laranjas brotavam da árvore verdinha. Cheguei ao ponto 0 da trajetória. Hora de ir para casa. A cantar "&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Somos a discórdia...E o perdão...E nos esquecemos da cor que tinha o céu, assim...Como a saudade...Ou uma frase perdida...Durma, Medo Meu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Uma Parte que não tinha -  O teatro mágico&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Desenho da Gabi na aula de química (Ela, Mila e Eu)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-998325158173318625?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/998325158173318625/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=998325158173318625' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/998325158173318625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/998325158173318625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/vamos-fumar-cigarro-de-organo.html' title='Vamos fumar cigarro de orégano?'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RvgtpeNNzxI/AAAAAAAAAIY/sQ7NgoFKEwU/s72-c/Digitalizar0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7723339528230136481</id><published>2007-09-09T11:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:24.841-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Os sonhos revelam um outro mundo, um outro "eu"...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuQGX-8GSOI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/MoqgBkqY1pc/s1600-h/_Octupus__Dreams___by_Andoledius.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108214886446811362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuQGX-8GSOI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/MoqgBkqY1pc/s320/_Octupus__Dreams___by_Andoledius.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;Porque hoje eu sonhei com alguém muito especial que tenho muitas saudades. Será que esse alguém sonhou o mesmo que eu? Foi tão bom. Parecia tão... real. Aí me surgiu na cabeça... O que são os sonhos? Decidi pesquisar. O site Educar da USP me disse: "&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Os sonhos não acontecem conosco. São coisas que nós mesmos fazemos. Nós criamos nossos sonhos. Eles pertencem a você. E ninguém pode dizer a você o que pode ou não sonhar. Eu sei que não parece assim. Mas é verdade. Nós fazemos sonhos. Os sonhos não são ainda muito bem compreendidos. Talvez nunca compreenderemos totalmente os sonhos. E isso não seria assim tão ruim. Afinal de contas, é sempre bom um pouco de mistério em nossas vidas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;" Teve a parte de um site que eu também gostei muito: "&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Há uma vantagem em procurar recordar os seus sonhos. Eles lhe dirão muita coisa sobre você mesmo. Analisando seus sonhos, estará mais habilitado a apreciar os fatores subconscientes que podem estar perturbando sua vida e fazendo com que você se sinta infeliz. Após ter descoberto o que lhe está trazendo infelicidade, você terá mais possibilidade de êxito (...)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;" Os sonhos que tive essa noite foram bons... Mas nesse em que eu encontrava essa pessoa foi o mais especial. Então, decidi pesquisar os significados das coisas que nele apareceram. Cada site mostrou uma coisa diferente. Eis aqui a lista:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Abraço : 1. Intriga 2. Despedidas tristes, traição, intriga. 3. Intrigas (Nesse deram coisas bem parecidas)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bicicleta: 1. Passeios agradáveis. 2. Passeios agradáveis. 3. Mudança para melhor. Saúde favorável. Recuperação de objetos perdidos.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Encontro: Nada encontrei sobre esse.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Então deixo aqui a música de uma ótima banda: Gram com Sonho Bom.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Acordei de um sonho bom/Que eu queria gravar/Pra poder mostrar pra alguém/Que pudesse apontar/De onde vem esse anjo?/Com quem sonhei?/Reconheço aquele olhar/E o que havia em volta/Mas se é tão familiar/Quero essa resposta.&lt;/em&gt;.."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nightingale&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Escutando: Boa sorte (Good luck) - Vanessa da Mata e Ben Harper&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Foto: +Octopus. Dreams.+ by &lt;a class="u" href="http://andoledius.deviantart.com/"&gt;Andoledius&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7723339528230136481?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7723339528230136481/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7723339528230136481' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7723339528230136481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7723339528230136481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/os-sonhos-revelam-um-outro-mundo-um.html' title='Os sonhos revelam um outro mundo, um outro &quot;eu&quot;...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuQGX-8GSOI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/MoqgBkqY1pc/s72-c/_Octupus__Dreams___by_Andoledius.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-5027984681354951426</id><published>2007-09-08T21:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:25.030-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>O ataque das moscas assassinas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuM6Ve8GSNI/AAAAAAAAAII/39aaIH1HucY/s1600-h/fly_on_green_by_sergiemag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107990543125072082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuM6Ve8GSNI/AAAAAAAAAII/39aaIH1HucY/s320/fly_on_green_by_sergiemag.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Eba! Batata frita!" Foi o que disse assim que vi o pacote de batata frita em cima da mesa para o almoço. Eu e minha família sentamos com gosto para o banquete que nos esperava. Quando já estavamos nos deliciando com aquele belo churrasco, escutamos um estranho som. Parecia com o som de um kamicase caindo velozmente do céu azul de 2 horas da tarde. Um kamicase não... Dezenas... Centenas... Milhares... Milhares de kamicases chegando cada vez mais perto... Mais perto... E mais perto. Quando de repente nos deparamos com milhares de moscas zunido no ar! Entraram pelas janelas da cozinha. Grandes com seus aproximadamente 30 cm de comprimento. Seus olhos eram de assustar. Metiam medo em qualquer um. Sua pele (ou sei lá o que a família dos insetos dípteros esquizóforos da subordem dos ciclórrafos tenha) azul nojenta. Minha mãe entra em desespero. Assim como minha irmã, que corre para a sala. "É uma invasão!!!" Gritava minha mãe apavorada. Quando de repente, um homem de estatura média e muito charmoso aparece. Com sua espada reluzente ele trava uma batalha com as moscas assassinas. O início da guerra não é nada fácil. O herói não consegue atingir o alvo, que são agéis e muito rápidas. Mas assim que atinge um, não mais consegue parar. Mata um, duas, três... Ninguém mais pode pará-lo. Ninguém mais consegue fazê-lo parar. Ele diz que não soltará sua espada até ver a última mosca morta. Mais moscas são mortas... Elas pedem piedade, mas o nosso herói não é misericordioso. "Elas atrapalharam meu almoço! Que está esfriando! Quero vingança! Quero sangue!" Isso era o que ele repetia para si. E assim, quando a última mosca dá o seu último grito antes da morte, o héroi, meu pai, volta para a mesa e assim continuamos nosso delicioso almoço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morrendo de rir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Stuck in the middle - Mika&lt;br /&gt;Foto: fly on green by &lt;a class="u" href="http://sergiemag.deviantart.com/"&gt;sergiemag&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-5027984681354951426?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5027984681354951426/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=5027984681354951426' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5027984681354951426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5027984681354951426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/o-ataque-das-moscas-assassinas.html' title='O ataque das moscas assassinas'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuM6Ve8GSNI/AAAAAAAAAII/39aaIH1HucY/s72-c/fly_on_green_by_sergiemag.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-250792306459499660</id><published>2007-09-07T21:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:25.126-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feriado'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Viagem'/><title type='text'>E o mar me disse...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuHwA-8GSMI/AAAAAAAAAIA/cc1WaYx3SO0/s1600-h/Into_the_Ocean_by_DeadXDandelion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107627352100587714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuHwA-8GSMI/AAAAAAAAAIA/cc1WaYx3SO0/s320/Into_the_Ocean_by_DeadXDandelion.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hoje, depois de um longo tempo, decidi visitar o Mar. Até que via-o de vez enquando sabe... Mas nunca mais tinha o visitado. Como hoje fui almoçar perto dele, decidi vê-lo. Me preparei. Entrei sem pedir licença. Ele até que parecia feliz em me ver. Eu também. Tê-lo perto de mim, trouxe uma calmaria que fazia um bom tempo que não sentia. Ele me perguntou como estava. Eu disse que aconteceram tantas coisas ultimamente: boas e ruins. A maioria ruins. Comentei que tudo tinha mudado em relação a última vez que estive com ele. Como um grande amigo, eu mergulhava em suas conversas de que não me preocupasse com a mal colheita. Me disse que é hora de fazer um bom plantio. Para descontrair o ambiente, começamos a cantar. Cantamos de tudo. Eu até jogava indiretas a cantar " Do verde nos teus olhos...Todos os sentimentos me tocam a alma..." (A festa, Maria Rita). Até mostrei a ele como está meu francês cantando La femme chocolat da Olivia Ruiz. Ele gostou. Dançamos ainda Lição de Baião da Adriana Partimpim. E não é que o Mar sabe sambar? Animado todo ele estava. E eu feliz. Porque a conversa com o Mar foi renovadora para mim. Contei várias histórias... E sabe o que ele disse no final de tudo? Arrisque. E eu gostei. A despedida foi mais querendo ficar do que ir. Mas eu precisava. Então me despedi a brincadeiras. E saí do mar pronta para o que quero...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Is it wonder? - Keane&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Into the Ocean by &lt;a class="u" href="http://deadxdandelion.deviantart.com/"&gt;DeadXDandelion&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-250792306459499660?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/250792306459499660/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=250792306459499660' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/250792306459499660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/250792306459499660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/e-o-mar-me-disse.html' title='E o mar me disse...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuHwA-8GSMI/AAAAAAAAAIA/cc1WaYx3SO0/s72-c/Into_the_Ocean_by_DeadXDandelion.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-8805082814647984241</id><published>2007-09-07T00:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:25.328-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feriado'/><title type='text'>E eu vou fugir com meu vestido vermelho!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuDIxe8GSLI/AAAAAAAAAH4/bRRYOj8loIo/s1600-h/Farewell_by_Dream_traveler.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107302729882421426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuDIxe8GSLI/AAAAAAAAAH4/bRRYOj8loIo/s320/Farewell_by_Dream_traveler.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;The Blower's Daughter&lt;br /&gt;Damien Rice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Just like you said it would be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Life goes easy on me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Most of the time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;And so it is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;The shorter story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;No love, no glory&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;No hero in her sky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes off of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;can't take my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;And so it is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Just like you said it should be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;We'll both forget the breeze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Most of the time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;And so it is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;The colder water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;The blower's daughter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;The pupil in denial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my eyes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did I say that I love you?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did I say that I want to&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Leave it all behind?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my mind off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my mind off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my mind off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my mind off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my mind off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I can't take my mind...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;My mind...my mind...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;'Til I find somebody new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Porque as notícias correm rápido. E quando menos esperamos... BOOM! Acontece. E quando você vê, você está no meio de brumas sozinho no frio e no escuro. Ok. Talvez esteja exagerando. Mas estamos no meio de brumas sem poder ver as coisas a nossa frente claramente. Apenas névoa. Quando sentimentos acordam, devem ser agora imediatamente adormecidos novamente. Virar um vulcão inativo. Totalmente.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Escutando: Ghost Love Score - Nightwish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Foto: Farewell by &lt;a class="u" href="http://dream-traveler.deviantart.com/"&gt;Dream-traveler&lt;/a&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/22317233-8805082814647984241?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8805082814647984241/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=8805082814647984241' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8805082814647984241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8805082814647984241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/e-eu-vou-fugir-com-meu-vestido-vermelho.html' title='E eu vou fugir com meu vestido vermelho!'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuDIxe8GSLI/AAAAAAAAAH4/bRRYOj8loIo/s72-c/Farewell_by_Dream_traveler.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-6047907207634257976</id><published>2007-09-06T22:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:25.487-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>O céu da tarde de hoje tava azul azul...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuC1Ye8GSKI/AAAAAAAAAHw/XjxdXXF0JDA/s1600-h/On_the_bus_by_Luthez.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107281409664764066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuC1Ye8GSKI/AAAAAAAAAHw/XjxdXXF0JDA/s320/On_the_bus_by_Luthez.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Hoje o ônibus tava cheio. Passei praticamente 15 minutos num ponto apenas esperando o povo todo entrar. Ao sair do meu bairro, o ônibus estava 'bem dizer' lotado. Ainda no começo do caminho, vejo 1 garoto e 1 garota a conversar sobre os jogos internos do colégio onde estudavam. Só me fez lembrar quando eu costumava jogar nesses eventos. Me bateu saudades dos meus amigos do último colégio em que estudei. Escutei metade de sua conversa. Quando fui impressionada pela entrada de um cara muito do lindinho. Olhos verdes, cabelos negros e lisos... Seus olhos encontraram os meus. Acho que corei um pouco. Espero que nada que possa ter sido reparado. Logo após ele, entra outro também nada de se jogar fora. 'Gosh'. Vocês devem estar pensando que sou uma assanhada desesperada. Mas o primeiro era muito lindo mesmo. Na metade do caminho, um cara lá atrás gritava por uma Carol. Me perguntei: "Será que é a Carol minha amiga?" Mas logo tirei essa idéia da cabeça e só podia escutar o cara: "Carol, já já eu desco e você ainda está aí na frente!". Eu ria... Umas 5 paradas antes da minha o cara se despediu da tal Carol, e se foi. Ainda bem que quando cheguei no meu ponto, não havia muitas pessoas no meu caminho, então desci e tomei meu trajeto para meu curso de francês. Que hoje, acabou não tendo... Mas até que a noite foi legal com a galera...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Evenfall - Tristania&lt;br /&gt;Foto: On the bus by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://luthez.deviantart.com/"&gt;Luthez&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-6047907207634257976?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6047907207634257976/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=6047907207634257976' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6047907207634257976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6047907207634257976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/o-cu-da-tarde-de-hoje-tava-azul-azul.html' title='O céu da tarde de hoje tava azul azul...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RuC1Ye8GSKI/AAAAAAAAAHw/XjxdXXF0JDA/s72-c/On_the_bus_by_Luthez.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-5566153569592284795</id><published>2007-09-02T22:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:25.527-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filmes'/><title type='text'>Antes que termine o dia, quero saber se ainda respiras... Pode-me dizer?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rttd6e8GSJI/AAAAAAAAAHo/dHQP8dUwiuM/s1600-h/antes-que-termine-o-dia-poster02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105777861873518738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rttd6e8GSJI/AAAAAAAAAHo/dHQP8dUwiuM/s320/antes-que-termine-o-dia-poster02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Antes que termine o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Quero dizer que te amo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes que termine o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Quero cantar para todo mundo ouvir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes que termine o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Quero viver aquele dia que planejamos e nunca fizemos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes que termine o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Quero dançar como uma bailarina,&lt;br /&gt;Quero me pintar de palhaço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes que termine o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Quero te dar aquele beijo que sempre desejou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes que termine o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Quero te pedir perdão e te abraçar mais forte que nunca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes que termine o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Quero ver o pôr-do-sol junto a ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes que termine o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Quero saber se ainda respiras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes que termine o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Quero comer bolo de chocolate com cobertura e recheio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes que termine o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Quero viver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Antes que termine o dia... Assistam. É lindo. De fazer chorar. De fazer pensar. De fazer querer viver mais intensamente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Hear you me - Jimmy Eat World&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: Pôster francês do filme 'If Only'. Porque o pôster francês é mais bonito que o americano.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-5566153569592284795?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5566153569592284795/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=5566153569592284795' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5566153569592284795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5566153569592284795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/antes-que-termine-o-dia-quero-saber-se.html' title='Antes que termine o dia, quero saber se ainda respiras... Pode-me dizer?'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rttd6e8GSJI/AAAAAAAAAHo/dHQP8dUwiuM/s72-c/antes-que-termine-o-dia-poster02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7011357822815969852</id><published>2007-09-02T20:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T21:17:23.585-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Au revoir petit prince!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;De Temps en Temps&lt;br /&gt;Gregory Lemarchal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;De temps en temps, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;je craque sous le poids de l'espérance, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;je vais parfois à contresens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;De temps en temps, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;j'ai des flèches plantées au coeur, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;de la peine, de la rancoeur.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;De temps en temps, je ris de rien, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;je fais le con parce que j'aime bien.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;De temps en temps, j'avance en ayant peur, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;je suis le fil de mes erreurs &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;et très souvent...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je me relève sous ton regard,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je fais des rêves où tout va bien,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je me bouscule, te prends la main,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Au crépuscule, je te rejoins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je me relève sous ton regard,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je fais le rêve d'aller plus loin,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je me bouscule, te prends la main,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Du crépuscule jusqu'au matin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;De temps en temps je pense à tort &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;que pas de larmes, c'était trop fort.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Au fond ce que j'attends &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;c'est voir le bout de nos efforts, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;que l'amour soit là encore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je me relève sous ton regard,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je fais des rêves où tout va bien,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je me bouscule, te prends la main,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Au crépuscule, je te rejoins...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je me relève sous ton regard,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je fais des rêves où tout va bien,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je me bouscule, te prends la main,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Au crépuscule, je te rejoins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je me relève sous ton regard,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je fais le rêve d'aller plus loin,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Je me bouscule, te prends la main,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Du crépuscule jusqu'au matin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque hoje eu descobri que ele se foi. Conheço seu trabalho a pouco tempo. Mas gostei muito. E hoje, quando fui pesquisar mais sobre sua carreira, descubro esse triste acontecimento. Fique bem, 'petit prince'. J'adore ta musique...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Je t'écris - Grégory Lemarchal&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7011357822815969852?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7011357822815969852/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7011357822815969852' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7011357822815969852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7011357822815969852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/09/au-revoir-petit-prince.html' title='Au revoir petit prince!'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-9063879566886725699</id><published>2007-08-31T22:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:25.820-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Eu respiro... Você respira?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rti_ku8GSII/AAAAAAAAAHg/_Ab5n5lcIDI/s1600-h/imagem2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105040815420754050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rti_ku8GSII/AAAAAAAAAHg/_Ab5n5lcIDI/s320/imagem2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Resumo do mês:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Livros lidos: &lt;em&gt;Orgulho e preconceito&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filmes assistidos: &lt;em&gt;Tudo acontece em Elizabethtown; Dançando no escuro; Orgulho e preconceito; In her shoes; Três vidas, um destino; Os incríveis; A era do gelo (pela milésima vez); O segredo de Vera Drake; O mistério do homem que encolhia (ou era algo parecido... Assisti no Telecine Cult). &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bandas conhecidas: &lt;em&gt;Superbus; Azure Ray; The weepies; Goldspot; Jimmy Eat world.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saída legal: &lt;em&gt;Ensaio da banda Demodèe.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Música que combinou legal: &lt;em&gt;Ciao Bella - Rose.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conversas legais: &lt;em&gt;Na net com o Tuku, nas aulas de teatro com o João, Ju (que virou a garota morango) e com o Ricardo (que virou o garoto limão).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frases: &lt;em&gt;"A lua está atras das nuvens negras... Você está lá também?" , "Eu respiro... Você também respira?"&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;e "Minha campainha faz ding dong!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Montagens: You're the other side of the world to me (KT Tunstall)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Icky Vicky - Chip Skylark (Padrinhos mágicos)&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Montagem minha (encontrei mais uma paixão)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-9063879566886725699?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/9063879566886725699/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=9063879566886725699' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/9063879566886725699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/9063879566886725699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/eu-respiro-voc-respira.html' title='Eu respiro... Você respira?'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rti_ku8GSII/AAAAAAAAAHg/_Ab5n5lcIDI/s72-c/imagem2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-9212966709631007659</id><published>2007-08-30T20:43:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:25.958-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Nobody's lost but nobody wins...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RtdZNe8GSHI/AAAAAAAAAHY/od2NNXaJNDo/s1600-h/I_miss_you_by_tonysandoval.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104646790826051698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RtdZNe8GSHI/AAAAAAAAAHY/od2NNXaJNDo/s320/I_miss_you_by_tonysandoval.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;A Warning Sign&lt;br /&gt;Coldplay&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Berryman/Buckland/Champion/Martin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;A warning sign&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I missed the good part then I realised&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I started looking and the bubble burst&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I started looking for excuses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Come on in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I've got to tell you what a state I'm in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I've got to tell you in my loudest tones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;That I started looking for a warning sign&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;When the truth is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I miss you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Yeah the truth is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;That I miss you so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;A warning sign&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;You came back to haunt me and I realised&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;That you were an island and I passed you by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;And you were an island to discover&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Come on in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I've got to tell you what a state I'm in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I've got to tell you in my loudest tones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;That I started looking for a warning sign&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;When the truth is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I miss you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Yeah the truth is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;That I miss you so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;And I'm tired&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I should not have let you go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;So I crawl back into your opening arms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Yes I crawl back into your opening arms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;And I crawl back into your opening arms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Yes I crawl back into your opening arms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque essa é a verdade. Sinto sua falta. Mais que qualquer outra coisa. Mais que qualquer outra pessoa. Hoje a lua se encontra atrás das nuvens escuras... Estás também lá? Porque se estiveres, quero pular nelas e abraçar-te fortemente. Mesmo que fiquemos molhados com a chuva que agora caiu. Porque 'se eu tiver você comigo, eu estarei, bem'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;" ... I never said thank you for that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Now I'll never have a chance...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;And if you were with me tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I'd sing to you just one more time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;A song for a heart so big&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;God couldn't let it live..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Sleep - Azure Ray&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: I miss you by &lt;a class="u" href="http://tonysandoval.deviantart.com/"&gt;tonysandoval&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-9212966709631007659?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/9212966709631007659/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=9212966709631007659' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/9212966709631007659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/9212966709631007659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/nobodys-lost-but-nobody-wins.html' title='Nobody&apos;s lost but nobody wins...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RtdZNe8GSHI/AAAAAAAAAHY/od2NNXaJNDo/s72-c/I_miss_you_by_tonysandoval.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3907948670459944489</id><published>2007-08-29T19:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:26.188-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Pequena menina, grande capitalista.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RtXySO8GSGI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/b_YYHWP9muA/s1600-h/the_teeth_plant_by_ploop26.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104252147756058722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RtXySO8GSGI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/b_YYHWP9muA/s320/the_teeth_plant_by_ploop26.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nessa segunda, os 2 últimos dentes de leite da minha irmã caíram. Ela ainda acredita em fadas dos dentes, então, antes de dormir, ela colocou os dentes dentro de um saquinho e o pôs debaixo do travesseiro. Pela manhã quando ela foi tomar café, minha mãe perguntou: "E aí? A fada dos dentes deixou seu dinheiro?" "Deixou... Mas só deixou 3 reais!" "Oxe! E não dá bom não?" "Não! Foram 2 dentes! Ela deveria me dar 4 reais! Não 3!" "Mas um era obturado não era? A fada dos dentes quer dentes bons! " "Mas era um dente. Com um buraco no meio mas era... Ela deveria me dar 4 reais..." E assim ela saiu com a cara emburrada. Com o produto de seus últimos dentes...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Encontrei essa músiquinha do desenhos padrinhos mágicos. Espero que gostem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Quando estou sozinho&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Triste, triste assim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Sem ter ninguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Num lugar perdido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Em um mar sem fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;O que me anima&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Que me alegra enfim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;É ver meus dentinhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Todos branquinhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;A brilhar pra mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Meus dentes brilham como&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Estrelas lá do céu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;São lindos como o dono&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Todos tiram o chapéu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Meus dentes brilham como&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Enfeites de natal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;O meu sorriso é o tal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Que os fãs vêm só olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Meus dentes a brilhar&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Hear you me - Jimmy Eat World&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: the teeth plant by *&lt;a class="u" href="http://ploop26.deviantart.com/"&gt;ploop26&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mensagem: &lt;em&gt;"I know it's wrong to love you from afar, But it's a craze, You recognize my pain... Could you be the one to find me safe and sound"&lt;/em&gt; From the song safe and sound, by Azure Ray. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-3907948670459944489?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3907948670459944489/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3907948670459944489' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3907948670459944489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3907948670459944489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/pequena-menina-grande-capitalista.html' title='Pequena menina, grande capitalista.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RtXySO8GSGI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/b_YYHWP9muA/s72-c/the_teeth_plant_by_ploop26.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7704921704678441946</id><published>2007-08-27T21:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:26.428-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Feriado'/><title type='text'>Je t'attends lentement dans le système solaire...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RtNq3O8GSFI/AAAAAAAAAHI/JihNae6YH_M/s1600-h/butterfly_by_volond.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103540299876419666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RtNq3O8GSFI/AAAAAAAAAHI/JihNae6YH_M/s320/butterfly_by_volond.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Butterfly&lt;br /&gt;Superbus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;J'ai des butterfly, des papillons en pagaille&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ton visage se dessine dans les moindre détails &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un peu sonnée par cette foutue bataille&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Je m'accroche a tes mots dans le moindre détail&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Butterfly, butterfly, butterfly, butterfly (x 2)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;J'ai des butterfly, des emotions en pagaille &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mon ventre se tort avant de te dire bye bye &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un peu sonnée par ce foutu détail&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ta voix résonne au fond de mes entrailles&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Butterfly, butterfly, butterfly, butterfly (x 2)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;J'ai des butterfly, des papillons en pagailles&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ton visage se dessine dans les moindre détails &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un peu sonnée par cette foutue bataille&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Je m'accroche a tes mots dans le moindre détail&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Butterfly, butterfly, butterfly, butterfly (x 4)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Como todo domingo, eu assisto Parole de Clipe no TV5, e ontem assistindo, encontrei essa banda muito legal chamada Superbus. A música que estava passando era essa: Butterfly. Tenho que dizer que adorei! O clipe é cheio de brilho... Num estilo que tem me chamado a atenção nos últimos tempos. O engraçado deles que achei foi que eles costumam colocar inglês nos refrões. Baixai várias outras músicas. Adorei. As letras são um pouco doidinhas, devo dizer. Meu amigo me disse: "Tu tem escutado cada coisa psicodélica ultimamente viu?". Hehehe. Mas nem é essas coisas... Só a letra mesmo. O som mesmo é tipo um rock pop francês mesmo. Quer escutar? Clique &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szbFNPNU2Ok"&gt;aqui&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Comme tu respires - Superbus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: butterfly by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://volond.deviantart.com/"&gt;volond&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7704921704678441946?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7704921704678441946/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7704921704678441946' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7704921704678441946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7704921704678441946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/je-tattends-lentement-dans-le-systme.html' title='Je t&apos;attends lentement dans le système solaire...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RtNq3O8GSFI/AAAAAAAAAHI/JihNae6YH_M/s72-c/butterfly_by_volond.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2115730007503418604</id><published>2007-08-23T21:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:26.549-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Ninguém me ama, ninguém me quer... Vou comer um rato...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rs4j6O8GSEI/AAAAAAAAAHA/SIJQQ0WngrI/s1600-h/Young_Love_by_exoart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102054911206901826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rs4j6O8GSEI/AAAAAAAAAHA/SIJQQ0WngrI/s320/Young_Love_by_exoart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje na aula de português, olhei para a banca de trás, e vi uma amiga fazendo uma daquelas brincadeiras velhas de amor. Sabe? Aquelas que a pessoa coloca o nome do 'amado' e o seu, conta o número de letras e mais um monte de coisas? Bem. Essa que minha amiga estava fazendo, chama-se regência. Daí pedi a ela para fazer comigo. Dei o nome de 3 dos meus 'paquerinhas'. Olha só no que deu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Paquerinha 1:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ele: Encontro (quer dizer que ele quer encontro)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu: Ilusão (quer dizer que eu acho que vai acabar em ilusão)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dois: Encontro (quer dizer que os dois querem encontro)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Paquerinha 2:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ele: encontro (já sabe)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu: Namoro (faz sentido já que gosto dele desde o primeiro momento em que o vi)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dois: Ilusão (já esperado)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Paquerinha 3:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ele: Saudade (faz sentido já que não nos falamos pessoalmente bem faz mais de 1 ano)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu: Encontro (quero mesmo)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dois: Encontro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Como vocês podem ver, o paquerinha número 3, saiu na frente do placar amoroso da brincadeira Regência. Vamos ver se isso vai dar certo mesmo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Escutando: Ciao Bella - Rose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foto: Young Love by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="u" href="http://exoart.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;exoart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;P.S. O título é uma música que as meninas estavam cantando na aula de teatro que não saiu da minha cabeça desde ontem.&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/22317233-2115730007503418604?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2115730007503418604/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2115730007503418604' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2115730007503418604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2115730007503418604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/ningum-me-ama-ningum-me-quer-vou-comer.html' title='Ninguém me ama, ninguém me quer... Vou comer um rato...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rs4j6O8GSEI/AAAAAAAAAHA/SIJQQ0WngrI/s72-c/Young_Love_by_exoart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-6461261623896930952</id><published>2007-08-22T20:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:26.859-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Today I woke up and thought I was dead...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RszMye8GSDI/AAAAAAAAAG4/35QCrJQslCw/s1600-h/_as_the_world_falls_away_by_lithp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101677645574588466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RszMye8GSDI/AAAAAAAAAG4/35QCrJQslCw/s320/_as_the_world_falls_away_by_lithp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;World Spins Madly On&lt;br /&gt;The Weepies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up and wished that I was dead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;With an aching in my head I lay motionless in bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I thought of you and where you’d gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;and let the world spin madly on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Everything that I said I’d do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Like make the world brand new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And take the time for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I just got lost and slept right through the dawn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And the world spins madly on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I let the day go by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I always say goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I watch the stars from my window sill &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The whole world is moving and I’m standing still&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Woke up and wished that I was dead &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;With an aching in my head I lay motionless in bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The night is here and the day is gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And the world spins madly on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I thought of you and where you’d gone &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And the world spins madly on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque às vezes penso que estou morta. A cada manhã em que acordo, a vontade de enfrentar mais um dia é fraca. Então, os raios de sol invadem o meu quarto, e trazem a esperança para meu coração. Um coração fraco. Perdido, mas amável. "I think I've always needed to be needed by someone". Antes de dizer adeus, gostaria de tê-los ao meu lado mais uma vez. Assim poderia partir em paz. Até o dia de voltar. Pois sinto que minha partida se aproxima. Ou é apenas o desejo que é grande demais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Ciao Bella - Rose&lt;br /&gt;Foto: .as the world falls away by &lt;a class="u" href="http://lithp.deviantart.com/"&gt;lithp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-6461261623896930952?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6461261623896930952/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=6461261623896930952' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6461261623896930952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6461261623896930952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/today-i-woke-up-and-thought-i-was-dead.html' title='Today I woke up and thought I was dead...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RszMye8GSDI/AAAAAAAAAG4/35QCrJQslCw/s72-c/_as_the_world_falls_away_by_lithp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-6442674562256417557</id><published>2007-08-21T20:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:26.998-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Ciao Bella...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rst6Z-8GSCI/AAAAAAAAAGw/C68cn4ox91Y/s1600-h/farewell_by_flygendegriser.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101305589737605154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rst6Z-8GSCI/AAAAAAAAAGw/C68cn4ox91Y/s320/farewell_by_flygendegriser.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Ciao Bella&lt;br /&gt;Rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au dessus de mon frond ou &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;il tire la ficelle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;de mes reves et de mes demons &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;se font toujours la belle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;de large des grands fond et jusqu'àprés la terre &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ha ha &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;je les sens ainsi fond les yeux de mon grand pere &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;haha &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;les autres ont s'en fou &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;les autres s'est pas nous &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;tu manques à ma vie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;jamais je n'oubli ta voix &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;au dela des etoiles &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;des rives du bon dieu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;puis sa jolie toile &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;il tisse tous mes voeux &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;au détour d'un chagrin &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;à l'angle de mes larmes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;il se fray un chemin et défaits tous mes drames &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;les autres ont s'en fou &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;les autres s'est pas nous &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;tu manques à ma vie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella jamais &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;je n'oubli ta voix &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;les autres ont s'en fou &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;les autres s'est pas nous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;tu manques à ma vie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;jamais je n'oubli ta voix &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;les autres ont s'en fou &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;les autres s'est pas nous &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;tu manques à ma vie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ciao bella &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;jamais je n'oubli ta voix&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje, voltando para casa, vejo uma moça chorando num ponto de ônibus. Pergunto-me: Por que será que chora? Está doente? Ou é dor no coração? Ou é dor na alma? Deu-me uma vontade de descer do ônibus e partilhar da agonia que sinto dentro de mim, com a dor que ela sentia, não importava qual fosse. Ao descer no meu ponto, pude sentir o vento frio a esquentar minha tristeza. Decidi não ir imediatamente para casa. Pude ver a lua crescente num céu parcialmente nublado. Algumas estrelas mostravam seu brilho prateado. Resolvi dar uma volta na praça. Um casal abaixo da árvore eram as únicas pessoas que lá se encontravam. A melodia dessa música tocava em meus ouvidos. Num canto escondido da praça, sentei. Uma vontade de chorar invadiu minha alma. Mas respirei. Fiquei um tempo comigo. Somente comigo. Levantei-me e andei o caminho para casa. Tempos de solidão estão por vir... Na verdade já veio. E pergunto-me se serão bruscos. Ou se terei alguém em quem poderei me segurar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: World spins madly on - The Weepies&lt;br /&gt;Foto: farewell by &lt;a class="u" href="http://flygendegriser.deviantart.com/"&gt;flygendegriser&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-6442674562256417557?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6442674562256417557/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=6442674562256417557' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6442674562256417557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6442674562256417557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/ciao-bella.html' title='Ciao Bella...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rst6Z-8GSCI/AAAAAAAAAGw/C68cn4ox91Y/s72-c/farewell_by_flygendegriser.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2068292588015159730</id><published>2007-08-20T18:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:27.145-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>O fim é belo incerto. Depende de como você vê.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsoN-O8GSBI/AAAAAAAAAGo/HJ2TofnO8h8/s1600-h/Every_night_has_it__s_own_star_by_Blackmago.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100904890763724818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsoN-O8GSBI/AAAAAAAAAGo/HJ2TofnO8h8/s320/Every_night_has_it__s_own_star_by_Blackmago.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; Brilha Onde Estiver&lt;br /&gt;O Teatro Mágico&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Indisponível&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Não há de ser nada, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;pois sei que a madrugada acaba, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;quando a lua se põe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;O abraço de vampiro é o sorriso de um amigo e mais nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Não há de ser nada, pois sei que a madrugada acaba, quando a lua se põe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;A estrela que eu escolhi não cumpriu com o que eu pedi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;e hoje não a encontrei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Pois caiu no mar, e se apagou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Se souber nadar, faça-me o favor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;O milagre que esperei nunca me aconteceu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Quem sabe é só você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Pra trazer o que já é meu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Brilha onde estiver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Faz da lágrima o sangue que nos deixa de pé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque desde ontem penso em você. Será que você também pensa em mim? Se pensa, é com carinho? Ou rancor? Somos feijão e arroz. Nos encontramos só de passagem. E quando penso em você, choro café, você chora leite. &lt;br /&gt;Hoje dia de chuva. Dia de chuva na minh'alma. Dia de chuva no meu coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: O anjo mais velho - O teatro mágico (Não paro de escutar =D)&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Every night has it's own star by &lt;a class="u" href="http://blackmago.deviantart.com/"&gt;Blackmago&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-2068292588015159730?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2068292588015159730/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2068292588015159730' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2068292588015159730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2068292588015159730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/o-fim-belo-incerto-depende-de-como-voc.html' title='O fim é belo incerto. Depende de como você vê.'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsoN-O8GSBI/AAAAAAAAAGo/HJ2TofnO8h8/s72-c/Every_night_has_it__s_own_star_by_Blackmago.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3858244275617623816</id><published>2007-08-17T22:32:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:27.279-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>MONSTERS!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsZN2u8GSAI/AAAAAAAAAGg/kcPxob_NzgY/s1600-h/__monsters__part_1___by_mutsy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099849230752040962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsZN2u8GSAI/AAAAAAAAAGg/kcPxob_NzgY/s320/__monsters__part_1___by_mutsy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; Monsters &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The boy least likely to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;This town is full of monsters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Holding hands with other monsters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And attempting to be human beings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Shuffling around the shops&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And waving at balloons&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;This town is full of monsters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Sitting on park benches&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Eating little packets of sultanas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Licking chocolate off their chubby little fingers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And I don't know why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;It is they scare me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;But they do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And the thing that really frightens me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Is that all my friends from school&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Are turning into monsters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Picking patterns out for curtains&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Making friends with all the other monsters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Pushing little baby monsters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Around the shops in prams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;This town is full of monsters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Peeping out from under parked cars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;In multi-storey car park&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Evil little eyes like fairy lights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Blinking in the dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;This town is full of monsters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Making out with other monsters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Picking sweet corn out of their teeth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Dipping pissy little fingers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;In the pick 'n' mix&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And I don't even know why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;It is it scares me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;But it does&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And the thing that really frightens me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Is that the people I used to love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Are turning into monsters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Getting married having babies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Telling me how great their life is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And how happy I would be if I could&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Just be more like them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No começo eu não era um deles... Mas agora... Eu acho que estou me tornando um monstro também. Sometimes I just don't want to grow up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: God takes cares of the little things - The boy least likely to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: monsters, part 1 - by &lt;a class="u" href="http://mutsy.deviantart.com/"&gt;mutsy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-3858244275617623816?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3858244275617623816/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3858244275617623816' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3858244275617623816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3858244275617623816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/monsters.html' title='MONSTERS!'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsZN2u8GSAI/AAAAAAAAAGg/kcPxob_NzgY/s72-c/__monsters__part_1___by_mutsy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4325617955651487731</id><published>2007-08-16T16:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:27.478-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filmes'/><title type='text'>A new world... A new day to see...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsSgB-8GR_I/AAAAAAAAAGY/0umUJjPsAWA/s1600-h/Dancer%20in%20the%20Dark%202000%20stor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099376634025625586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsSgB-8GR_I/AAAAAAAAAGY/0umUJjPsAWA/s320/Dancer%2520in%2520the%2520Dark%25202000%2520stor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've Seen It All&lt;br /&gt;Björk &amp; Thom Yorke&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Sjón Björk &amp;amp; Lars Von Trier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've seen it all, I have seen the trees,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've seen the willow leaves dancing in the breeze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've seen a man killed by his best friend,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;And lives that were over before they were spent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've seen what I was - I know what I'll be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've seen it all - there is no more to see!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;You haven't seen elephants, kings or Peru!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I'm happy to say I had better to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;What about China? Have you seen the Great Wall?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;All walls are great, if the roof doesn't fall!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;And the man you will marry?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;The home you will share?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;To be honest, I really don't care...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;You've never been to Niagara Falls?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I have seen water, its water, that's all...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;The Eiffel Tower, the Empire State?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;My pulse was as high on my very first date!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Your grandson's hand as he plays with your hair?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;To be honest, I really don't care...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've seen it all, I've seen the dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've seen the brightness in one little spark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've seen what I chose and I've seen what I need,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;And that is enough, to want more would be greed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've seen what I was and I know what I'll be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've seen it all - there is no more to see!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;You've seen it all and all you have seen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;You can always review on your own little screen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;The light and the dark, the big and the small&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Just keep in mind - you need no more at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;You've seen what you were and know what you'll be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;You've seen it all - there is no more to see!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Com certeza, um dos melhores e mais tristes filmes que já assisti... A interpretação da Björk é simplesmente linda. A trilha sonora perfeita para quem já gosta da carreira da cantora. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;They say it's the last song. They don't know us, you see. It's only the last song if we let it be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Cvalda - Björk (Selma songs)&lt;/div&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/22317233-4325617955651487731?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4325617955651487731/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4325617955651487731' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4325617955651487731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4325617955651487731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/new-world-new-day-to-see.html' title='A new world... A new day to see...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsSgB-8GR_I/AAAAAAAAAGY/0umUJjPsAWA/s72-c/Dancer%2520in%2520the%2520Dark%25202000%2520stor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-1144864627865841015</id><published>2007-08-13T19:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:27.587-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Choro café... E você chora leite...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsDacRAtwFI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/LQNZaZu40Zo/s1600-h/coffee_milk_02_by_lilosu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098314957320994898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsDacRAtwFI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/LQNZaZu40Zo/s320/coffee_milk_02_by_lilosu.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Pratododia&lt;br /&gt;O Teatro Mágico&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Danilo Souza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Como arroz e feijão,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;é feita de grão em grão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Nossa felicidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Como arroz e feijão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;A perfeita combinação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Soma de duas metades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Como feijão e arroz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;que só se encontram depois de abandonar a embalagem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Mas como entender que os dois&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Por serem feijão e arroz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Se encontram só de passagem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Me jogo da panela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Pra nela eu me perder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Me sirvo a vontade... que vontade de te ver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;O dia do prato chegou é quando eu encontro você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Nem me lembro o que foi diferente!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Mas assim como veio acabou e quando eu penso em você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Choro café e você chora leite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Choro café e você chora leite...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como costume matinal, no meu trajeto para a escola, coloco o MP3 no ouvido, e escuto essa música. Nunca havia reparado em sua letra... Que é linda. Um sorriso se abre em meu rosto... Mas logo é apagado. Uma solidão começa a invadir meu coração, e parece que as fortalezas não agüentam seus ataques. A chuva de hoje trouxe o frio que eu pedia... Um cenário melancólico perfeito, para um sentimento tão triste...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escutando: Dawn - Dario Marianelli (Pride and prejudice soundtrack)&lt;br /&gt;Foto: coffee milk 02 by &lt;a class="u" href="http://lilosu.deviantart.com/"&gt;lilosu&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-1144864627865841015?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1144864627865841015/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=1144864627865841015' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1144864627865841015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1144864627865841015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/choro-caf-e-voc-chora-leite.html' title='Choro café... E você chora leite...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RsDacRAtwFI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/LQNZaZu40Zo/s72-c/coffee_milk_02_by_lilosu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-5524632637411619572</id><published>2007-08-12T20:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:27.822-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filmes'/><title type='text'>Orgulho e preconceito...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rr-dmBAtwDI/AAAAAAAAAGA/K6uU90iVL0w/s1600-h/orgulho-e-preconceito-poster03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097966579638714418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rr-dmBAtwDI/AAAAAAAAAGA/K6uU90iVL0w/s320/orgulho-e-preconceito-poster03.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mr. Darcy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Miss Elizabeth. I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you... I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance. All these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Elizabeth Bennet&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;I don't understand.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mr. Darcy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;I love you. Most ardently. Please do me the honor of accepting my hand.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Elizabeth Bennet&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through, and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mr. Darcy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Is this your reply?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Elizabeth Bennet&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Yes, sir.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mr. Darcy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Are you... are you laughing at me? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Elizabeth Bennet&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;No.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mr. Darcy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Are you *rejecting* me?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Elizabeth Bennet&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;I'm sure that the feelings which, as you've told me have hindered your regard, will help you in overcoming it. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mr. Darcy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Might I ask why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus repulsed? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Elizabeth Bennet&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;And I might as well enquire why, with so evident a design of insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your better judgment.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mr. Darcy&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;You must know... surely, you must know it was all for you. You are too generous to trifle with me. I believe you spoke with my aunt last night, and it has taught me to hope as I'd scarcely allowed myself before. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. If, however, your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Essas foram as melhores partes que achei desse belo filme. Nesse fim de semana, é a segunda vez que assisto. E foi a melhor. Um pouco mais triste, pelo sentimento de solidão ter crescido um pouco mais em meu coração. Razão? Não tenho certamente. Mas acredito que sentimentos do passado retornam. O que mostra que preciso definitivamente de uma mudança de ares. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Assistam esse filme. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: The lord of the rings soundtrack&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-5524632637411619572?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5524632637411619572/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=5524632637411619572' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5524632637411619572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5524632637411619572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/orgulho-e-preconceito.html' title='Orgulho e preconceito...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rr-dmBAtwDI/AAAAAAAAAGA/K6uU90iVL0w/s72-c/orgulho-e-preconceito-poster03.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4936932029089463419</id><published>2007-08-12T20:43:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:27.985-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Papa...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rr-brhAtwCI/AAAAAAAAAF4/L2yi2gf1tWk/s1600-h/Father_by_SeizureDemon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097964475104739362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rr-brhAtwCI/AAAAAAAAAF4/L2yi2gf1tWk/s320/Father_by_SeizureDemon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Para o meu pai que amo muito...&lt;br /&gt;Feliz dia dos pais!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nightingale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foto: Father by &lt;a class="u" href="http://seizuredemon.deviantart.com/"&gt;SeizureDemon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-4936932029089463419?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4936932029089463419/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4936932029089463419' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4936932029089463419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4936932029089463419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/papa.html' title='Papa...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rr-brhAtwCI/AAAAAAAAAF4/L2yi2gf1tWk/s72-c/Father_by_SeizureDemon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7046104967551374087</id><published>2007-08-11T22:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:28.110-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Uma garotinha feliz...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rr5leRAtwBI/AAAAAAAAAFw/bkxTCicH1mg/s1600-h/___disco____by_ravelithium.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097623398866862098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rr5leRAtwBI/AAAAAAAAAFw/bkxTCicH1mg/s320/___disco____by_ravelithium.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You're So Vain&lt;br /&gt;Carly Simon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You walked into the party&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;like you were walking onto a yacht&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;your hat strategically dipped below one eye&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;your scarf it was apricot&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you had one eye in the mirror&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;as you watched yourself gavotte&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;they'd be your partner and&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're so vain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you probably think this song is about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're so vain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I bet you think this song is about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;don't you, don't you, don't you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;well you had me several years ago&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;when I was still quite naive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;well you said that we made such a pretty pair&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and that you would never leave&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;but you gave away the things you loved&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and one of them was me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;clouds in my coffee and&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're so vain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you probably think this song is about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're so vain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I bet you think this song is about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;don't you, don't you, don't you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;clouds in my coffee and...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're so vain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you probably think this song is about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're so vain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I bet you think this song is about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;don't you, don't you, don't you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;well I hear you went up to Saratoga&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and your horse naturally won&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;then you flew your Lear jet up to Nova Scotia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;to see the total eclipse of the sun&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;well you're where you should be all the time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and when you're not&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're with some underworld spy or the wife of a close friend&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;wife of a close friend&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're so vain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you probably think this song is about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're so vain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I bet you think this song is about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;don't you, don't you, don't you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hoje me lembrei de minha infância com essa e outras músicas. Quando pequena, costumava morar num apartamento, e todo sábado e domingo pela tarde, meu pai costumava colocar um disco de flashback na vitrola. Hoje, enquando ele fazia um trabalho no computador, ele ligou a minha vitrola, que se encontra no escritório, e colocou um desses discos velhos que ele costumava colocar. Foi tão bom... Como se eu fosse novamente aquela garotinha inocente. A ver um céu azul com algodões doces flutuantes. Uma garotinha feliz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Away - Nightwish&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto: .: disco :. by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://ravelithium.deviantart.com/"&gt;ravelithium&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mensagem do dia: “O tempo cura todos os males inevitáveis.” Menandro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7046104967551374087?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7046104967551374087/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7046104967551374087' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7046104967551374087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7046104967551374087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/uma-garotinha-feliz.html' title='Uma garotinha feliz...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rr5leRAtwBI/AAAAAAAAAFw/bkxTCicH1mg/s72-c/___disco____by_ravelithium.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2704153530318787528</id><published>2007-08-10T18:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:28.211-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filmes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Porque se não fosse desse jeito... seria de outro...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RrzXYhAtwAI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ubhaOXQmPsU/s1600-h/elizabethtown-poster01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097185694454759426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RrzXYhAtwAI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ubhaOXQmPsU/s320/elizabethtown-poster01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;"Drew Baylor: No true fiasco ever began as a quest for mere adequacy. A motto of the British Special Air Force is: 'Those who risk, win.' A single green vine shoot is able to grow through cement. The Pacific Northwestern salmon beats itself bloody on it's quest to travel hundreds of miles upstream against the current, with a single purpose, sex of course, but also... life "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Sabe aqueles filmes que você assiste e você pára depois para pensar? Sabe? Aqueles que mexe com você enquanto você assiste? Que cada frase dita entra no seu coração e faz ele ficar mole? Aquele filme que você ri... e que ao mesmo tempo você chora. Chora de alegria. Chora de tristeza. Chora por lembrar que você é sozinho. Chora pela coisas engraçadas e simples da vida. Chora por lembrar dos seus erros. Mas sorri, mesmo com lágrimas, ao chegar a conclusão de que a vida é maravilhosa, mesmo nadando contra a corrente, mesmo sendo um substituto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Assistam esse filme. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Escutando: I love NYE - Badly drown boy (About a boy soundtrack)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Frase do dia: "A vida é maravilhosa, sem ela não existiriamos" Pepe Pirez &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/22317233-2704153530318787528?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2704153530318787528/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2704153530318787528' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2704153530318787528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2704153530318787528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/porque-se-no-fosse-desse-jeito-seria-de.html' title='Porque se não fosse desse jeito... seria de outro...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RrzXYhAtwAI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ubhaOXQmPsU/s72-c/elizabethtown-poster01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4798761507631902287</id><published>2007-08-09T23:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T23:52:01.310-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Porque eu sou a bailarina...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;A Bailarina E O Soldado De Chumbo&lt;br /&gt;O Teatro Mágico&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;De repente toda mágica se acabou e na nossa casinha apertada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Tá faltando graça e tá sobrando espaço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Tô sobrando num sobrado sem ventilador&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Vai dizer, que nossas preces não alcançaram o céu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Coração, que inda vem me perguntar o que conteceu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Contece seu rosto por acaso ainda tem o gosto meu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Com duas conchas nas mãos, vem vestida de ouro e poeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Falando de um jeito maneira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Da lua, da estrela e de um certo amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Que agora acompanha seu dia, e pra minha poesia é o ponto final&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;É o ponto em que recomeço, recanto e despeço da magia que balança o mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Bailarina, soldado de chumbo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Bailarina, soldado de chumbo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Beijo e dor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Bailarina, soldado de chumbo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Nossa casinha pequena parece vazia sem o teu balé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Sem teu café requentado soldado de chumbo não fica de pé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Nossa casinha vazia parece pequena sem o teu balé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Sem teu café requentado soldado de chumbo não fica de pé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Porque essa música é linda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;E essa frase não saiu da minha cabeça hoje: "Porque eu sou a bailarina e ele é o meu soldado de chumbo..." Agora quem é ele não sei...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Escutando: A bailarina e o soldado de chumbo - O teatro mágico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-4798761507631902287?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4798761507631902287/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4798761507631902287' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4798761507631902287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4798761507631902287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/porque-eu-sou-bailarina.html' title='Porque eu sou a bailarina...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2175704714657068130</id><published>2007-08-06T19:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T20:17:34.640-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Já sei porque... Porque fala de sexo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Ai Se Sêsse&lt;br /&gt;Cordel Do Fogo Encantado&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Zé Da Luz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Se um dia nois se gostasse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Se um dia nois se queresse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Se nois dois se empareasse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Se juntim nois dois vivesse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Se juntim nois dois morasse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Se juntim nois dois drumisse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Se juntim nois dois morresse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Se pro céu nois assubisse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Mas porém acontecesse de São Pedro não abrisse a porta do céu e fosse te dizer qualquer tolice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;E se eu me arriminasse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;E tu cum eu insistisse pra que eu me arresolvesse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;E a minha faca puxasse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;E o bucho do céu furasse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Da vês que nois dois ficasse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Da vês que nois dois caisse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;E o céu furado arriasse e as virgi toda fugisse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Esse foi a literatura de cordel que a professora de minha irmã recitou semana passada na escola em que ela estuda. O problema é que ela não terminou. Minha irmã faz apenas 3ª série e a professora achou melhor não continuar. Como sabemos, crianças são muito curiosas. Ao chegar em casa, minha irmã (que sabe que sou fã de Cordel do fogo encantado), me pergunta se conheço a tal literatura. Digo que sim, mas não me lembro ao certo. Ela começou: " Se um dia nois dois se gostasse..." "Ahhh!" logo respondi: "Sim. Conheço. Por que?" "Porque a professora contou, mas não contou o final... Me conta?" Logo respondi que não. Se a professora não disse, era melhor não dizer. Minha irmã passou a semana todinha tentando me tirar a resposta. Hoje pela manhã, enquanto eu escovava os dentes para ir à escola, ela mais uma vez me pergunta: "Me conta o resto do cordel vai? " E eu continuei firme com minha resposta. "Já sei" - disse ela - " Já sei porque você não quer me dizer. Porque fala se sexo."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Escutando: The modern things - Björk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Frase do dia: "Sexo causa gente" - Millor Fernandes (Para combinar com o post)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-2175704714657068130?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2175704714657068130/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2175704714657068130' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2175704714657068130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2175704714657068130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/j-sei-porque-porque-fala-de-sexo.html' title='Já sei porque... Porque fala de sexo...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2134167541538187811</id><published>2007-08-05T18:43:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:28.417-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Dia de chuva tão triste tão bom...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RrZNGhAtv_I/AAAAAAAAAFg/F4s8rUgpxy0/s1600-h/city_in_the_rain__by_artsyexistence2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095344802752217074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RrZNGhAtv_I/AAAAAAAAAFg/F4s8rUgpxy0/s320/city_in_the_rain__by_artsyexistence2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Killing Me Softly With His Song&lt;br /&gt;Roberta Flack&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Charles Fox/ Norman Gimbel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Strumming my pain with his fingers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Singing my life with his words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Killing me softly with his song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Killing me softly with his song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Telling my whole life with his words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Killing me softly, with his song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And so I came to see him, and listen for a while&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(repeat chorus)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I felt he found my letters, and read each one out loud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(repeat chorus)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;He sang as if he knew me, and all my dark despair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;and then he looked right through me as if I wasn't there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And he just keep on singing, singing clear and strong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(repeat chorus till fade)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Boa noite...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;O céu de hoje foi totalmente fechado... Um vento frio invadia a casa me fazendo encolher mais na cama e me enrolar mais no lençol. Domingo em que acordo exatamente ao meio-dia para assistir Paroles de clip no TV5, que hoje não teve muitos cantores interessantes... Até demorei para almoçar... Às 3 horas da tarde. Depois um banho gelado ao som de Adriana Partimpim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Minha vitrola foi finalmente consertada. Coloquei essa música em homenagem a ela. (Tenho um disco com ela, e minha irmã não pára de cantar. Ela está cantando nesse exato momento).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Tenham uma boa noite e uma boa chuva,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Escutando: Você pode ir na janela (Gatinho) - Gram&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Foto: City in the rain. by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="u" href="http://artsyexistence.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;artsyexistence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt; (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;Frase do dia:  "Olho pro lago, vejo a lua. Olho prá lua, ué, cadê o lago?" - Clarissa Manuchaguian&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/22317233-2134167541538187811?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2134167541538187811/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2134167541538187811' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2134167541538187811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2134167541538187811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/dia-de-chuva-to-triste-to-bom.html' title='Dia de chuva tão triste tão bom...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RrZNGhAtv_I/AAAAAAAAAFg/F4s8rUgpxy0/s72-c/city_in_the_rain__by_artsyexistence2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-4129356329552551933</id><published>2007-08-03T22:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:28.589-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>É difícil ser feliz...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RrPiNxAtv-I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Gxos75_8vwA/s1600-h/SOUP.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094664329608675298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RrPiNxAtv-I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Gxos75_8vwA/s320/SOUP.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Canção da Falsa Tartaruga&lt;br /&gt;Adriana Calcanhotto&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Lewis Carroll / Tradução: Augusto de Campos/Musica:Cid Campos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que bela sopa, de osso ou aveia,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A ferver na panela cheia!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que bela sopa, de osso ou aveia,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A ferver na panela cheia!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem não diz: - Ave! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem não diz: - Eia!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem não diz: - Opa! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que bela sopa!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sopa das sopas, que bela sopa!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sopa das sopas, que bela sopa!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que bela sopa!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sopa, sóo sopa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que bela sopa!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que bela sopa! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem não se baba, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem não a papa! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem não a gaba!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que bela sopa!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem não se baba&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem não a papa!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem não a gaba!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem não daria tudo só para &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Beliscar essa bela sopa?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Beliscar essa bela sopa?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Beliscar essa bela sopa?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Beliscar essa bela sopa?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Beliscar essa bela sopa?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que bela sopa!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que bela sopa!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sopa, sóó sopa!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que bela sosopa!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Boa noite!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;O inverno realmente chegou: céu fechado todos os dias, chuvas, vento frio, ônibus congelando... Com isso, a preguiça de ficar em casa enrolado num lençol lendo algum livro ou assistindo TV. (Enquanto escrevo, escuto as gotinhas a cair lá fora...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Essa música não saiu da minha cabeça hoje... No meio da rua eu cantando: "Que bela sopa... de osso ou aveia..." (Detalhe: Eu pensava que era osso e aveia... Eu me questionei: Será que essa sopa é boa?) E me veio uma vontade de tomar sopa... Pode ser de feijão, frango ou carne... Queria tomar um bom prato agora.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Hoje fui ao ensaio da banda Demodée (de uns amigos). Muito boa!!! Adorei... Tanto as músicas, como a galera mesmo... Se quiser ver uma palhinha velha da banda, clica &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X7it92XIO9E&amp;mode=related&amp;amp;search="&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;. É velha porque a banda cresceu bastante desde esse ensaio: agora tem teclado, trompete, baixista... Tá fodástica (desculpe a palavra).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;A minha cama está chamando o meu nome... Já me vou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Escutando: Último romance - Los hermanos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Foto: SOUP by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="u" href="http://anothergirl.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;anothergirl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Frase do dia: "Você quer ser feliz por um instante? Vingue-se! Você quer ser feliz para sempre? Perdoe!" – Tertuliano&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/22317233-4129356329552551933?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/4129356329552551933/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=4129356329552551933' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4129356329552551933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/4129356329552551933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/08/difcil-ser-feliz.html' title='É difícil ser feliz...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RrPiNxAtv-I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Gxos75_8vwA/s72-c/SOUP.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-1246872562466943969</id><published>2007-07-31T19:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:28.720-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Brilha onde estiver...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rq-8ghAtv9I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/S0Ets9K6NTY/s1600-h/Children_of_Color_by_pyromaniac.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093496970382524370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rq-8ghAtv9I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/S0Ets9K6NTY/s320/Children_of_Color_by_pyromaniac.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Oito Anos&lt;br /&gt;Adriana Calcanhotto&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Dunga / Paula Toller&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que você é flamengo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E meu pai botafogo?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O que significa"impávido colosso"?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que os ossos doem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Enquanto a gente dorme?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que os dentes caem?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por onde os filhos saem?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que os dedos murcham&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quando estou no banho?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que as ruas enchem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quando está chovendo?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quanto é mil trilhões&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vezes infinito?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quem é jesus cristo?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Onde estão meus primos?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, well, well&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gabriel...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, Well, Well, Wellll...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que o fogo queima?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que a lua é branca?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que a terra roda?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que deitar agora?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que as cobras matam?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que o vidro embaça?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que você se pinta?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que o tempo passa?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que que a gente espirra?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que as unhas crescem?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que o sangue corre?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que que a gente morre?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do que é feita a nuvem?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do que é feita a neve?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Como é que se escreve&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ré...vei...llon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, Well, Well&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gabriel...(4x)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Boa noite!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Ontem, lembrei que minha mãe tinha comprado (havia já um tempo), o CD da Adriana Partimpim. Então, ontem mesmo, enquanto respondia o questionário de biologia, escutava o álbum que não tinha escutado todo... Que álbum lindo... Sem exceção de tracks... Já faz 2 anos que tenho a idéia de fazer um grupo de contadores de histórias, mas sempre acontece algo. Escutando as músicas, a idéia foi lembrada... E vou ter uma conversa séria com minha professora de artes e o meu de teatro...  Como nesse ano, quero realizar todos esses meus planos, esse é um de muitos da lista.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Também veio uma outra idéia... Mas essa surgiu faz um mês: uma banda. Mas não é uma simples banda não... É uma estilo O teatro mágico... Mas seria bem mais mágica. Estou sonhando, sonhando... Espero poder realizar este, porque meus sonhos não ficam em meu travesseiro...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Agora vou-me... Estudar um pouquinho e retornar ao meu livro. Apesar da minha irmã querer que eu assista 'Piratas do Caribe' com ela...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escutando: Eu não sei na verdade quem sou eu - O teatro mágico&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foto? Children of Color by *&lt;a class="u" href="http://pyromaniac.deviantart.com/"&gt;pyromaniac&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Canto 'O teatro mágico' com boas lembranças...&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/22317233-1246872562466943969?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1246872562466943969/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=1246872562466943969' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1246872562466943969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1246872562466943969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/brilha-onde-estiver.html' title='Brilha onde estiver...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rq-8ghAtv9I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/S0Ets9K6NTY/s72-c/Children_of_Color_by_pyromaniac.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-1544888966049310547</id><published>2007-07-29T20:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:28.854-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>I've been dreaming...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rq0qAxAtv8I/AAAAAAAAAFI/k4ZXUUxXrKc/s1600-h/The_rain_by_OjosVerde.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092772946270601154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rq0qAxAtv8I/AAAAAAAAAFI/k4ZXUUxXrKc/s320/The_rain_by_OjosVerde.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Noite chuvosa&lt;br /&gt;Vai e vem das folhas&lt;br /&gt;Dança do vento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Desfolhado&lt;br /&gt;O abacateiro chora&lt;br /&gt;Gotas de orvalho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;César Silveira &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Noite com nuvens parciais, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;chuva no ínicio &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;e uma bela lua para iluminar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Eu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Boa noite...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Sempre gostei de Hai-kai, desde que li certa vez no meu livro de português... Finalmente coloco um aqui no blog... Juntamente com meu primeiro Hai-kai! =D Quem quiser ler ótimos Hai-kai, clique &lt;a href="http://seabra.com/haikai/"&gt;aqui&lt;/a&gt; para visualizar um ótimo site que eu encontrei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Feliz aniversário Grazi! Minha priminha linda! 2 aninhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Escutem a música "Le Festin" da cantora Camille, que faz parte da trilha sonora de Ratatouille... Muito bom...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Esperando pizza... Mussarela...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Amanhã início de semana... Ai ai...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Escutando: Le festin - Camille (Ratatouille soundtrack)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Foto: The rain by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://ojosverde.deviantart.com/"&gt;OjosVerde&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;P.S. O meu Hai-kai é falando do dia de hoje viu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&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/22317233-1544888966049310547?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1544888966049310547/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=1544888966049310547' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1544888966049310547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1544888966049310547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/ive-been-dreaming.html' title='I&apos;ve been dreaming...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rq0qAxAtv8I/AAAAAAAAAFI/k4ZXUUxXrKc/s72-c/The_rain_by_OjosVerde.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-8460571038366711858</id><published>2007-07-28T17:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:28.954-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>... Só a bailarina que não tem...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqupOxAtv7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/oxbh8CtR_-0/s1600-h/The_Dancer_by_mixylplik3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092349874812075954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqupOxAtv7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/oxbh8CtR_-0/s320/The_Dancer_by_mixylplik3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ciranda Da Bailarina&lt;br /&gt;Chico Buarque&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Chico Buarque&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Procurando bem todo mundo tem pereba,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marca de bexiga ou vacina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tem piriri, tem lombriga, tem ameba&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Só a bailarina que não tem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E não tem coceira, verruga, nem frieira&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nem falta de maneira ela não tem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Futucando bem, todo mundo tem piolho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ou tem cheiro de creolina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Todo mundo tem um irmão meio zarolho,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Só a bailarina que não tem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nem unha encardida, nem dente com comida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nem casaca de ferida ela não tem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não livra ninguém,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Todo mundo tem remela quando acorda às seis da matina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Teve escarlatina ou tem febre amarela&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Só a bailarina que não tem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Medo de subir, gente&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Medo de cair,gente, medo de vertigem quem não tem?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Confessando bem,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Todo mundo faz pecado, logo assim que a missa termina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Todo mundo tem um primeiro namorado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Só a bailarina que não tem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sujo atrás da orelha, bigode de groselha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Calcinha um pouco velha ela não tem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O padre também pode até ficar vermelho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se o vento levanta a batina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Reparando bem todo mundo tem pentelho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Só a bailarina que não tem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sala sem mobília, goteira na vasilha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Problema na família, quem não tem?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Procurando bem...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Todo mundo tem...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Procurando bem...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Boa tarde!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Dia sem nada especial... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Finalmente consigo falar com a Flor depois da chegada dela! Mais uma vez, bem vinda minha fia linda!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Isso é estranho... Saber que talvez nunca mais poderei ver vocês... Que nunca mais poderei tê-los ao meu lado. A canção do Badly drawn boy me conta... Como isso é estranho... Imagino se algum dia poderei ver suas faces... Mesmo que no meio de uma multidão. Sinto algo... Não é agonia... Não é tristeza... Não é alegria... Alívio? Definitivamente não. Eu só gostaria de estar lá por vocês... E acho que isso não será possível...  Mas deixo o trecho dessa música:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;"...And if the chance should happen that I never see you again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Just remember that I'll always love you..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Música linda não? Do mestre Chico Buarque... O Vítor me mandou ontem... Não paro de escutar juntamente com a trilha sonora de About a boy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Agora me vou me... hehehe... Ler... Estou dividida em ler Orgulho e preconceito ou About a boy... Ou mesmo Harry Potter... Não... Vou ler Orgulho e preconceito porque eu já comecei...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Au revoir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Foto: &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Escutando: Something to talk about - Badly drawn boy &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/22317233-8460571038366711858?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8460571038366711858/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=8460571038366711858' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8460571038366711858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8460571038366711858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/s-bailarina-que-no-tem.html' title='... Só a bailarina que não tem...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqupOxAtv7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/oxbh8CtR_-0/s72-c/The_Dancer_by_mixylplik3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-8744732612866693923</id><published>2007-07-27T21:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:29.078-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Just remember that I'll always love you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqqoUhAtv6I/AAAAAAAAAE4/GfYunugnSaQ/s1600-h/Sad_Clown_by_NaBHaN.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092067399107985314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqqoUhAtv6I/AAAAAAAAAE4/GfYunugnSaQ/s320/Sad_Clown_by_NaBHaN.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A Minor Incident&lt;br /&gt;Badly Drawn Boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There's nothing I could say to make you try to feel ok&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And nothing you could do to stop me feeling the way I do&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And if the chance should happen that I never see you again&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Just remember that I'll always love you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;I'd be a better person on the other side I'm sure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;You'd find a way to help yourself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;And find another door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;To shrug off minor incidents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;And Make us both feel proud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;I'd just wish I could be there to see you through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;You always were the one to make us stand out in a crowd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;Though every once upon a while your head was in a cloud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There's nothing you could never do to ever let me down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;And remember that I'll always love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;É uma noite de céu nublado... E chuva... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;E a trilha sonora de About a boy não sai da minha cabeça... Nem do Windows media player...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Lendo Orgulho e preconceito... E tenho mais 2 livros para ler: Harry Potter e About a boy... Meu amigo me passou o HP já traduzido... E já li o último capítulo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Essa música faz parte da trilha sonora de About a boy. E eu amei. Ela é para vocês... "... Remember that I'll always love you..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Au revoir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Foto: Sad Clown by *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="u" href="http://nabhan.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;NaBHaN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Escutando: Curioso clã - O clã&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/22317233-8744732612866693923?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8744732612866693923/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=8744732612866693923' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8744732612866693923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8744732612866693923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/just-remember-that-ill-always-love-you.html' title='Just remember that I&apos;ll always love you...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqqoUhAtv6I/AAAAAAAAAE4/GfYunugnSaQ/s72-c/Sad_Clown_by_NaBHaN.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-1365668350821830640</id><published>2007-07-26T18:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:29.193-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>So much I wanted to give... To the ones who loves me... Time will tell...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqkcAhAtv5I/AAAAAAAAAEw/9KrzC24YJww/s1600-h/grande-garoto-poster02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091631648906002322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqkcAhAtv5I/AAAAAAAAAEw/9KrzC24YJww/s320/grande-garoto-poster02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Something To Talk About&lt;br /&gt;Badly Drawn Boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I've been dreaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Of the things I've learnt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;About a boy who's bleeding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;celebrate to elevate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;The joy is not the same without the pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Oooh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Ipso facto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Using up your oxygen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;You know I'm shallow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Calling out for extra help&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;You've got to let me in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Or let me out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Oooh something to talk about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Oooh something to talk about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Oooh Oooh Oooh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I've been dreaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Of the things I learnt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;About a boy who's leaving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Nothing else to chance again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;You've got to let me in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Or let me out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Oooh something to talk about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Yeah something to talk about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Oooh Oooh Oooh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Bon soir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Depois de quase uma semana acordando com um céu cor de chumbo, os raios solares me iluminam nos meus primeiros minutos matinais... Apesar desse bom acontecimento... Ô diazinho viu? Totalmente sem paciência. Deve ser a TPM. Porque hoje meu pavio ‘tava curto... Na aula de inglês, um bando de gente conversando que dava vontade de esganar o primeiro que desse mais um pio. Gente impedindo a passagem nos corredores... Ahhh! Para piorar, na hora do intervalo, a biblioteca estava fechada. Mas consegui pegar o livro que queria: Orgulho e preconceito. Estava querendo ler um romance... Desses dramas... Como esqueci meu caderno de matemática, comecei a lê-lo. Cheguei ao capítulo 7. Até agora, estou adorando o livro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Ah! Coloquei essa música porque não sai da minha cabeça...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Estou dividida entre a tristeza e a alegria. Meu coração e mente está uma bagunça só! Não sei se devo estar feliz ou triste. Será que são efeitos da TPM ou são coisas do coração? Cheguei a conclusão: Estou triste...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Me vou... A internet só nos faz se sentir pior ainda...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Au revoir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Foto: Porque esse filme não sai da minha cabeça... Juntamente com sua trilha sonora. Quero assistir!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Escutando: Silent sigh - Badly drown boy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-1365668350821830640?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1365668350821830640/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=1365668350821830640' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1365668350821830640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1365668350821830640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/so-much-i-wanted-to-give-to-ones-who.html' title='So much I wanted to give... To the ones who loves me... Time will tell...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqkcAhAtv5I/AAAAAAAAAEw/9KrzC24YJww/s72-c/grande-garoto-poster02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-8823955553612796246</id><published>2007-07-25T18:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:29.354-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Cut me free, bleed with me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqkOYRAtv4I/AAAAAAAAAEo/Wr38QFxNSyw/s1600-h/1137076722_f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091616663765106562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqkOYRAtv4I/AAAAAAAAAEo/Wr38QFxNSyw/s320/1137076722_f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Walking In The Air&lt;br /&gt;Nightwish&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Howard Blake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;We're walking in the air&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;We're floating in the moonlit sky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The people far below are sleeping as we fly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'm holding very tight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'm riding in the midnight blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'm finding I can fly so high above with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Far across the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The villages go by like trees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The rivers and the hills&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The forests and the streams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Children gaze open mouth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Taken by surprise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Nobody down below believes their eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;We're surfing in the air&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;We're swimming in the frozen sky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;We're drifting over icy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Mountain floating by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Suddenly swooping low on an ocean deep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Arousing of a mighty monster from its sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;We're walking in the air&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;We're floating in the midnight sky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And everyone who sees us greets us as we fly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Boa noite!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O dia amanheceu com mais um céu escuro... E com a preguiça de levantar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A manhã correu bem... Boa nota na prova de física... Tudo estava bem... Feliz demais com o encontro da noite anterior com a minha turma de francês. Mas depois de algum tempo... Bateu um vento frio... Minh'alma começa a congelar um pouco... Como uma tarde de completa preguiça... Com isso, pensamentos que haviam sumido um pouco de minha mente, retornam mais fortes que nunca... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ao chegar em casa e almoçar, imprimo um conto meu para minha aula de teatro, vejo umas coisas e arrumo-me para sair... Apesar da tristeza já ter parecido no meu caminho. (Tudo isso ao som de Nightwish, que fazia um bom tempo que não escutava). Cheguei à aula de teatro sem ânimo... Mas decidi ficar. Passei na biblioteca a procura do livro ‘O mundo de Sofia’, mas infelizmente não se encontrava lá. Não peguei nenhum, mas vi ‘Orgulho e preconceito’ e lembrei que queria assistir ao filme. Então, amanhã eu irei pega-lo. A aula de teatro foi um saco... Nunca uma aula foi tão chata como a de hoje... Muito barulho... Poderia dizer que foi uma aula perdida se não fosse algo que pude perceber: como as meninas de hoje estão mais ‘adultas’. Estão empanturradas de maquiagem, não mais brincam, e agem como se já fossem 3, 4 anos mais velhas... É incrível... Fico triste ao perceber isso... Estou preocupada com uma colega minha da turma de teatro... Ela deve ter seus 11 ou 12 anos... E está apaixonada. Não é uma simples paixonite. Ela está apaixonada. Não discordando de que uma garota não possa se apaixonar, principalmente nessa idade, mas os poemas que ela escreve (que são até bonitos) são muito profundos. De um amor forte... Aqueles que parecem de filme. Tenho medo de que ela esteja falando sério. Ela acha que sempre é preciso ter alguém ao lado. E não é bem assim. Certa vez, disse que ia ao cabeleireiro depois da aula, e ela perguntou: “Vai se arrumar para quem?”. Eu disse: “Para mim!”. Não é dizendo que o amor é algo errado. Não. Mas que não podemos levar essas coisas tão a sério. Ela tem muito o que aprender e viver para estar querendo tanto uma pessoa... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Preciso ir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beijos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nightingale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-8823955553612796246?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/8823955553612796246/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=8823955553612796246' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8823955553612796246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/8823955553612796246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/cut-me-free-bleed-with-me.html' title='Cut me free, bleed with me...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqkOYRAtv4I/AAAAAAAAAEo/Wr38QFxNSyw/s72-c/1137076722_f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3183933408499577345</id><published>2007-07-24T21:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T22:18:22.834-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Let me tell you - it's lucky for you that we're friends...</title><content type='html'>Like A Friend&lt;br /&gt;Pulp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't bother saying sorry&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you come in?&lt;br /&gt;Smoke all my cigarettes - again.&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I get no further&lt;br /&gt;How long has it been?&lt;br /&gt;Come on in now&lt;br /&gt;Wipe your feet on my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You take up my time&lt;br /&gt;Like some cheap magazine&lt;br /&gt;When I could have been&lt;br /&gt;learning something&lt;br /&gt;Well, you know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've done this before&lt;br /&gt;And will do it again&lt;br /&gt;C'mon and kill me baby&lt;br /&gt;While you smile like a friend&lt;br /&gt;And I'll come running&lt;br /&gt;Just to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it&lt;br /&gt;That this is still going on&lt;br /&gt;Just how stupid can one person be?&lt;br /&gt;Just how stupid and wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are that last drink I never should have drunk&lt;br /&gt;You are the body hidden in the trunk&lt;br /&gt;You are the habit I can't seem to kick&lt;br /&gt;You are my secrets on the front page every week.&lt;br /&gt;You are the car I never should have bought&lt;br /&gt;You are the train I never should have caught&lt;br /&gt;You are the but that makes me hide my face&lt;br /&gt;You are the party that makes me feel my age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a car wash I can see but I just can't avoid&lt;br /&gt;Like a plane I've been told I never should board&lt;br /&gt;like a film that's so bad but I've just got to stay 'til the end&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you -it's lucky for you that we're friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bon soir!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O dia acordou com um céu cor de chumbo. Com isso, a preguiça de levantar da cama. Mas o dever nos chama, assim como o meu despertador... Na verdade o do meu pai, já que o meu tocou e eu não quis me levantar...&lt;br /&gt;No meu caminho para o colégio, coloco meu MP3 nos ouvidos e escuto essa música... Lembro-me de ti... Como tenho me lembrado esses dias... Pergunto-me se estás bem... Não menti ao dizer: "Só... Enquanto eu respirar, vou me lembrar de você..."&lt;br /&gt;Dia feliz! Hoje, encontrei os meus amigos do francês que eu estava morrendo de saudades! Amo amo amo! Muito engraçado...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Au revoir.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nightingale&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-3183933408499577345?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3183933408499577345/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3183933408499577345' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3183933408499577345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3183933408499577345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/let-me-tell-you-its-lucky-for-you-that.html' title='Let me tell you - it&apos;s lucky for you that we&apos;re friends...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-5225008081537875742</id><published>2007-07-22T21:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:29.443-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Boire la vodka!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqP_GBAtv3I/AAAAAAAAAEg/qm-klRHZGMM/s1600-h/Bestest_Friends_by_Nightychao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090192482674524018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqP_GBAtv3I/AAAAAAAAAEg/qm-klRHZGMM/s320/Bestest_Friends_by_Nightychao.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey Amigo!&lt;br /&gt;Cachorro Grande&lt;br /&gt;Composição: M.Gross/G.Azambuja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Porque a gente sabe, que a gente sabe demais, sobre nós dois&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Porque a gente sabe, que a gente sabe demais, sobre nós dois&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Conte comigo se você precisar, de um amigo para desabafar, noite e dia, toda hora pela madrugada&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Porque a gente sabe, que a gente sabe demais, sobre nós dois&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Talvez você não irá encontrar, alguém com quem você possa falar, noite e dia, toda hora pela madrugada&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(eu disse:)Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Porque a gente sabe, que a gente sabe demais, sobre nós dois&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, eu quero ser seu amigo de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;de novo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Boa noite!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Essa semana foi de profundo estudo e bagunça... Prova de recuperação + Pintura na casa = 'bagacera'... Mas está tudo bem. No final de semana passado, eu estava assistindo na TV Cultura o programa Bem Brasil. E quem tava lá tocando? Cachorro Grande! Nunca havia escutado essa música antes, e adorei!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Finalmente essa semana, meu pai estará mandando minha vitrola para o conserto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Nada de novo... Só meu quarto lilás!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Esse final de semana passou voando... Farra na praia na sexta a noite e aula no sábado pela manhã... Mas foi muito bom! Tirando a resaca da vodka no sábado o dia todo... Mas valeu a pena...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Au revoir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;P.S. Carol chegou hoje... BEM VINDA FIA LINDAAAA!!! Amo amo amo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;P.S.S. Parabéns Lidy!!! Fera Direito Fal 2007!!! Futura 'adevogada'!!! amo amo amo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Escutando: Love today - Mika&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Foto: Bestest Friends by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://nightychao.deviantart.com/"&gt;Nightychao&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&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/22317233-5225008081537875742?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/5225008081537875742/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=5225008081537875742' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5225008081537875742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/5225008081537875742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/boire-la-vodka.html' title='Boire la vodka!'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RqP_GBAtv3I/AAAAAAAAAEg/qm-klRHZGMM/s72-c/Bestest_Friends_by_Nightychao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2539893855803319847</id><published>2007-07-15T21:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:29.645-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fim de semana'/><title type='text'>Sometimes I catch myself thinking about you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RprJQFR0j4I/AAAAAAAAAEY/vOaoa-UezXA/s1600-h/Dark_Path_by_dannflor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087600007200411522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RprJQFR0j4I/AAAAAAAAAEY/vOaoa-UezXA/s320/Dark_Path_by_dannflor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Foguete De Reis (ou A Guerra)&lt;br /&gt;Cordel Do Fogo Encantado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;No derradeiro luar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O sol saiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Um trovão avermelhado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O sol saiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Solta fogo do passado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O sol saiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;No peito de quem tá vivo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O sol saiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Salve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Eu quero ver rodar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A planta que vingará&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O sol saiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O medo de lampião&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O sol saiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;As dores de Iemanjá&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O sol saiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;E a lua clariou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;E eu vi o meu amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;No meio do canavial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;E haja guerra e haja guerra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Haja guerra no ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Boa noite senhor e senhora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Eu cheguei agora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Me preste atenção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Nesse mundo de fogo e de guerra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O santo da terra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Tem calo na mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Essa foi a música que começou o meu final de semana. Lá estou eu, assistindo a abertura do Pan (na televisão infelizmente), quando de repente escuto batidas familiares... É Cordel do fogo encantado abrindo o Pan-americano no Rio de Janeiro! Pense numa alegria! Cantei e pulei junto vendo Lirinha e seu grupo e cantar e dançar no meio de todas aquelas luzes... Foi muito bonito! ... A noite me traz mais surpresas... Para mim, ainda inesperadas... Mas boas... Muito boas...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No outro dia, viagem! Que só vim saber no dia anterior... Vamos cair na estrada... Sempre que estou viajando no carro, vendo todo aquele verde, casinhas ao longe e montanhas que vão além de nossos olhos, começo a pensar muito. E pensamentos que estavam adormecidos, acordam finalmente trazendo sentimentos que também dormiam tranquilamente. E a rádio ajuda! O que passa? :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Take my photo off the wall &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If it just won´t sing for you &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;´Cause all that´s left has gone away &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And there´s nothing there for you to prove &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh, look what you´ve done &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You´ve made a fool of everyone &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh well, it seems likes such fun &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Until you lose what you had won &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Give me back my point of view &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;´Cause I just can´t think for you &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can hardly hear you say &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What should I do, well you choose..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Da banda Jet. Claro que eu sou quem ele fala na música... Já começou daí... No meio do caminho, podemos ver a situação das estradas do estado: como chuveu muito na noite, formou-se um lago na pista, onde patos nadavam... Sério... Patos! Eu queria uma câmera para poder registrar... Dormi quase toda viagem... Estava morrendo de sono... Chego finalmente em Caruaru... Eita friozinho bom... Depois de comer o bom almoço da minha avó, vou fazer umas comprinhas... E assim como no Minha casa sua casa: Melhor compra? Uma bolsa muito linda por sinal e 2 brincos de pena... Voltando para casa da minha avó e comendo um belo sanduíche que só como lá... No outro dia, mais gente vem... Ou seja, mais festa! Mas tudo ocorreu tranquilo... Foi tudo muito bom.... Tudo bom demais... Mas chega a hora de partir... E o que isso significa? Mais estrada, mais pensamentos... E para ajudar: mais música!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"... And now my heart kicks up a fuss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I’m a rolling stone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;They say I’m dangerous but I’m never alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I know that you’re like me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;You want your kids to free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;We’ll be a rolling stone..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Rolling Stones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;(Essa eu vou incluir no meu cd para viagens)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"...She&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;May be the beauty or the beast.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;May be the famine or the feast.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;May turn each day into a heaven or a hell.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;She may be the mirror of my dreams.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A smile reflected in a stream&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;She may not be what she may seem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Inside her shell..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Elvis Costelo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"...Nobody said it was easy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's such a shame for us to part&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nobody said it was easy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;No one ever said it would be this hard&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh take me back to the start..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coldplay&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"... I never meant to cause you trouble&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And I never meant to do you wrong,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;And I, well if I ever caused you trouble&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ah no, I never meant to do you harm..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Coldplay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E pego-me pensando em ti... Por que será? Por que será que a estrada trás lembranças de ti e acordam sentimentos que pensei já terem morrido? Tua alma vive nas estradas? Hehehehehe... Queria descobrir...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E assim chego em casa... Infelizmente para o primeiro dia letivo depois das férias... Férias entre aspas já que fiquei de recuperação... Mas que essas aulas sejam bem vindas... =D&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ciao,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nightingale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;P.S. Parabéns Brasil pelo hepta campeonato mundial em vôlei!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;P.S. Parabéns para todos os atletas que participaram e estão participando do 15º pan-americano! Boa sorte!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escutando: Os oim do meu amor - Cordel do fogo encantado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Foto: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;www.deviantart.com&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-2539893855803319847?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2539893855803319847/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2539893855803319847' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2539893855803319847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2539893855803319847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/sometimes-i-catch-myself-thinking-about.html' title='Sometimes I catch myself thinking about you...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RprJQFR0j4I/AAAAAAAAAEY/vOaoa-UezXA/s72-c/Dark_Path_by_dannflor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-2868693883759407240</id><published>2007-07-12T20:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:29.804-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Te demander pardon...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpbD0VR0j3I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/qC1SKSbJdss/s1600-h/Lost_in_the_Clouds_by_thienbao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086468132994060146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpbD0VR0j3I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/qC1SKSbJdss/s320/Lost_in_the_Clouds_by_thienbao.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Epígrafe&lt;br /&gt;Mário Quintana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;As únicas coisas eternas são as nuvens...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Bon soir!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Não encontrava nada para postar aqui... E revirando aqui os arquivos de meu computador, encontrei essas palavras de Mário Quintana... É uma pena que possa ser verdade e ir de encontro com as palavras que certa vez enterramos na praia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Uma gripezinha me pegou... =/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Au revoir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Escutando: Torn - Natalie Imbruglia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Foto: Lost in the Clouds by *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="u" href="http://thienbao.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;thienbao&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&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/22317233-2868693883759407240?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/2868693883759407240/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=2868693883759407240' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2868693883759407240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/2868693883759407240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/te-demander-pardon.html' title='Te demander pardon...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpbD0VR0j3I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/qC1SKSbJdss/s72-c/Lost_in_the_Clouds_by_thienbao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7806167680772682548</id><published>2007-07-10T18:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:30.056-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Get away, run away, fly away...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpQQjT4OhgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/DBPrXRiQiUs/s1600-h/By_Definition.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085708078025704962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpQQjT4OhgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/DBPrXRiQiUs/s320/By_Definition.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;A morte de um poeta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vê minhas mãos?&lt;br /&gt;Estão molhadas...&lt;br /&gt;De sangue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vê meus olhos?&lt;br /&gt;Estão secos.&lt;br /&gt;Não podem chorar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouves minha respiração?&lt;br /&gt;Não há.&lt;br /&gt;Não mais respiro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vê algum brilho em meus olhos?&lt;br /&gt;Não existe.&lt;br /&gt;Não tenho mais alma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouves meu coração?&lt;br /&gt;Não bate.&lt;br /&gt;Está morto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Boa noite!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Muito boa noite! Uau... Acabo de escutar a música &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The poet and the pendulum&lt;/span&gt; do novo álbum do &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Nightwish&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Dark passion play&lt;/span&gt;. Devo dizer que estou muito surpresa. Sério... A música está muito, mas muito boa! A orquestra, a letra, a melodia, a voz da nova vocalista &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Anette Olzon&lt;/span&gt;, a voz do Marco... Está tudo muito bom... Claro que a voz da Tarja ficaria bem melhor, porque prefiro a voz lírica, mas a voz da Olzon não está nada mal... &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Nightwish&lt;/span&gt; está de parabéns! E para surpresa maior ainda: fazia muito tempo que Nightwish não me inspirava para escrever, e olha só o que saiu depois de escutar essa nova música...! Lembrando também que os violinos estão perfeitamente perfeitos nessa música... Não poderia estar melhor! A orquestra... Uau... Estou muito feliz e satisfeita com o &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Nightwish&lt;/span&gt;... Em nenhuma música eles usaram tão bem e tão perfeitamente a orquestra... Uau... Uma esperança surgiu no horizonte...! Não paro de escutar! O começo lembra alguma outra música... Mas não me lembro... Ahh sim! Lembra Avantasia! É... Mas voltando a &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Nightwish&lt;/span&gt;... Estão de parabéns! Esse ano promete...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escolhi outra cor para o meu quarto... Essa é certeza! É um azul puxado para o lilás... É bem bonita... E a decoração eu vou comprar no mercado do artesanato... Quero coisas bem simples... Mas bem legais...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Estava estudando física... Eu estou entendendo... Fiz uma lista que ele passou no bimestre... Só algumas que tive dúvidas... Mas acho que posso me dar bem ^^&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Au revoir,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nightingale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Listening to: The poet and the pendulum - Nightwish&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Foto: &lt;/strong&gt; By Definition by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://jomina.deviantart.com/"&gt;Jomina&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-7806167680772682548?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/7806167680772682548/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=7806167680772682548' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7806167680772682548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/7806167680772682548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/get-away-run-away-fly-away.html' title='Get away, run away, fly away...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpQQjT4OhgI/AAAAAAAAAEI/DBPrXRiQiUs/s72-c/By_Definition.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-6530642716609581450</id><published>2007-07-09T21:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:30.210-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Au jour le jour... Dia a dia...'/><title type='text'>Começo, meio e fim...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpLgcT4OheI/AAAAAAAAAD4/l6jAKxv_VdI/s1600-h/theater_by_PapIlIa_CeLla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085373706231776738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpLgcT4OheI/AAAAAAAAAD4/l6jAKxv_VdI/s320/theater_by_PapIlIa_CeLla.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Simples Como Qualquer Palavra&lt;br /&gt;O Teatro Mágico&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Fernando Anitelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Palavra, tenho que escolher a mais bonita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Para poder dizer coisas do coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Dar a letra de quem lê&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Toda palavra escrita ou rabiscada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;No joelho, guardanapo ou chão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Ponto pula linha travessão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;E a palavra vem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Pequena, querendo se fazer no silêncio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Querendo se fazer de oração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Baixinha como a altura da intenção e na insegurança&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Vírgula, parênteses, exclamação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Ponto pula linha travessão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;E a palavra vem ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Vem sozinha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Se o texto é curto aumento para te conhecer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Vem sozinha ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Que a minha frase invento para conhecer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Palavra, simples como qualquer palavra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Como qualquer palavra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bon soir...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Certa vez, li num livro que a vida é como uma peça de teatro: podemos ser os atores ou os espectadores... Não podemos apenas ver a vida passar diante de nossos olhos. Temos que vivê-la. Olhando por esse ponto, nos tornamos os atores. Mas, para um peça ser boa, a ponto de querermos vê-la novamente, precisamos construir um começo, um meio e um fim. É necessário escrever bem as duas primeiras partes, para que o fim tenha sentido... Para que a peça tenha um bom final. Às vezes, em nossas peças cometemos erros que podem afetar o seu fim. Mas, podemos tentar repará-los. Construir um novo começo para que o fim seja melhor... É a chamada segunda chance... Uma segunda chance de fazer de uma simples peça de teatro, um espetáculo!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finalmente escolhi a cor para o meu quarto! Adorei... Não é nem rosa, nem vermelho, nem lilás... É lindo! Hehehehehe... Creio que essa semana começa a pintura... Já estou vendo a bagunça... (A cor é mais ou menos essa que eu coloquei aqui)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hoje começou tudo... Muita gente ficou em recuperação... Ainda bem que fiquei apenas em física... E para minha tristeza, a minha nota do 2º bimestre foi menor do que a do 1º... E eu que pensava que tinha sido melhor... E sim... Só fiquei mesmo em física. Pensei ter ficado talvez em matemática... Mas não... Ainda bem...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hora de dormir... Amanhã tenho muito o que estudar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Au revoir,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nightingale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escutando: La femme chocolat - Olivia Ruiz&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Foto: Theater by ~&lt;a class="u" href="http://papilia-cella.deviantart.com/"&gt;PapIlIa-CeLla&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"&lt;/strong&gt;Sometimes I wished I could talk to you... Better not..."&lt;/span&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/22317233-6530642716609581450?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/6530642716609581450/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=6530642716609581450' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6530642716609581450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/6530642716609581450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/comeo-meio-e-fim.html' title='Começo, meio e fim...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpLgcT4OheI/AAAAAAAAAD4/l6jAKxv_VdI/s72-c/theater_by_PapIlIa_CeLla.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-3909778877468140870</id><published>2007-07-08T20:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T21:23:16.516-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Um novo início...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Hyperballad&lt;br /&gt;Bjork&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;We live on a mountain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Right at the top&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;There's a beautiful view&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;From the top of the mountain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Every morning I walk towards the edge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;And throw little things off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Like car-parts, bottles and cutlery&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Or whatever I find lying around&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;It's become a habit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;A way to start the day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I go through all this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Before you wake up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;So I can feel happier&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;To be safe up here with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;It's real early morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No-one is awake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I'm back at my cliff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Still throwing things off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I listen to the sounds they make&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;On their way down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I follow with my eyes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;'til they crash&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Imagine what my body would sound like&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Slamming against those rocks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;When it lands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Will my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Be closed or open?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I go through all this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Before you wake up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So I can feel happier&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;To be safe up here with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bon soir!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por que será que essa música não saiu de minha cabeça o dia todo? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finalmente comprei o CD de músicas francesas e de músicas instrumentais...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Último dia de férias! Amanhã já começam minhas aulas de recuperação... Pena...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coisas inesperadas aconteceram nessas férias... É daí que paro para pensar, como tudo pode acontecer rápido... Em pequenos atos, podemos mudar grandes coisas... Grandes sentimentos... Podem ser para bom ou para ruim... Você é quem decide... Lembrando que, a coisa mais fácil que se pode acontecer para um humano como eu, é errar. Ou não construir um bom final. É assim que a vida funciona. É assim que a construimos: com erros e acertos. O que podemos fazer com os erros? Aprender com eles e tentar conserta-los. Com tudo isso que aconteceu, tenho uma nova proposta para mim: um novo início. Porque depois dessas férias uma certeza tenho para mim: as coisas não serão as mesmas... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Au revoir!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nightingale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escutando: You've been flirting again - Björk&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-3909778877468140870?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/3909778877468140870/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=3909778877468140870' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3909778877468140870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/3909778877468140870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/hyperballad-bjork-we-live-on-mountain.html' title='Um novo início...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-1582412426207662499</id><published>2007-07-07T19:35:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:30.427-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>STATE OF EMERGENCY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpAkzT4OhdI/AAAAAAAAADw/I7plEaXFnVM/s1600-h/Free___by_larafairie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084604443229324754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpAkzT4OhdI/AAAAAAAAADw/I7plEaXFnVM/s320/Free___by_larafairie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Joga&lt;br /&gt;Björk&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Björk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;All the accidents that happen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;follow the dot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;confidence makes sense&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;only with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;you don't have to speak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;emotional landscapes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;they puzzle me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;then the riddle gets solved and you push me up to this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;...state of emergency......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;how beatuiful to be!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;...state of emergency......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;is where I want to be...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;all that no-one sees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;you see what's inside of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;every nerve that hurts you heal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;deep inside of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;you don't have to speak - I feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;emotional landscapes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;they puzzle me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;confuse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;then the riddle gets solved and you push me up to this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;...state of emergency...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;...how beautiful to be!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;...state of emergency...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;...is where I want to be...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;...state of emergency...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;...state of emergency...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Boa noite!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Em casa! Essa semana na casa da minha avó foi muito bom para mim... Um tempo de reflexão... Caiu muito bem... Pronta para um novo começo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Hoje, assisti Vênus... Um filme muito bom... O começo devo dizer que é um pouco chatinho... Pelo menos eu achei... Mas depois começa a melhorar... O final não poderia ser mais perfeito! Adorei a atmosfera das sessões de arte do cinema... Com certeza, a sessão de hoje foi a primeira de muitas outras!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Hoje, finalmente escutei Björk... Simplesmente AMEI! As letras são lindas: simples, mas que passam nada mais nada menos que nossos desejos mais escondidos. As melodias são muito legais... A voz dela é tranquilizante... Podem dizer que Björk é doida... Mas quem não queria ser doida que nem ela?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Último final de semana de férias! Que pena...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Saudades das minhas aulas de francês... Saudades da turma...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Au revoir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Escutando: The modern things - Björk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Foto: Free.. by *&lt;a class="u" href="http://larafairie.deviantart.com/"&gt;larafairie&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;" I believe I'll leave you for the best. But in the same time I'm leaving you for you, I'm leaving for me... I'm leaving for us..."&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/22317233-1582412426207662499?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1582412426207662499/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=1582412426207662499' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1582412426207662499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1582412426207662499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/state-of-emergency.html' title='STATE OF EMERGENCY!'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RpAkzT4OhdI/AAAAAAAAADw/I7plEaXFnVM/s72-c/Free___by_larafairie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-422652578285186552</id><published>2007-07-06T21:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T13:37:33.222-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Every dream's a journey away...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Away&lt;br /&gt;Nightwish&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Tuomas Holopainen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The days were brighter&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gardens more blooming&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The nights had more hope&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In their silence&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The wild was calling&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wishes were whispering&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The time was there&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But without a meaning&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Away, away, away in time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Every dream´s a journey away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Away, away to a home away from care&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everywhere´s just a journey away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The days departed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gardens deserted&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This frail world&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My only rest?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The wild calls no more&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wishes so hollow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Barefoot Boy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Weeping in an empty night&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Away, away, away in time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Every dream´s a journey away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Away, away to a home away from care&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everywhere´s just a journey away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cherish the moment&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tower the skies&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don´t let the dreamer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fade to grey like grass&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;No falling for life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A gain for every loss&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Time gathered me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But kept me flying&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Away, away, away in time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Every dream´s a journey away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Away, away, away in time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Every dream´s a journey away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Away, away to a home away from care&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everywhere´s just a journey away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Away, away, away in time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Every dream´s a journey away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Away, away to a home away from care&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everywhere´s just a journey away&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Bon soir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Deixei para deixar essa música que relata o que tenho pensado... Meu sonho está tão distante... Mas não inalcançável...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Amanhã estou indo assistir VÊNUS na sessão de arte com minha amiga... Estou feliz por isso!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Au revoir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;PS. Queria assistir o Live Earth na Antártida....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-422652578285186552?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/422652578285186552/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=422652578285186552' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/422652578285186552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/422652578285186552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/away-nightwish-composio-tuomas.html' title='Every dream&apos;s a journey away...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-115553913808372790</id><published>2007-07-04T16:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T16:50:13.305-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Come back and find me 'cause I feel alone...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Fall&lt;br /&gt;KT Tunstall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;How many times? How many faces?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;How many years? How many places?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;And I know the faces that I have seen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Recognise the places where I have been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;If I try&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Do you have me in your memory?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Have I dented your soul?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Could you mould my face from cold clay?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;In the darkness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Would you fall?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;How many lies below my window&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Run around my head and beneath my pillow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I know the faces inside my head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Haven't got a place to go instead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;If you try&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feeling alone... Scared of being alone... Everything is telling me I should be fine... But I'm worried about you... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" Só enquanto eu respirar vou me lembrar de você..."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Listening to: Throw me a rope - KT Tunstall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-115553913808372790?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/115553913808372790/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=115553913808372790' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/115553913808372790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/115553913808372790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/come-back-and-find-me-cause-i-feel.html' title='Come back and find me &apos;cause I feel alone...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-296336142400615109</id><published>2007-07-03T17:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T20:48:31.794-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>"Viva... Não poderás se vangloriar, mas não podes se martirizar para todo o sempre..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ocean Soul&lt;br /&gt;Nightwish&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Tuomas Holopainen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One more night&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;To bear this nightmare&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What more do I have to say&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Crying for me was never worth a tear&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My lonely soul is only filled with fear&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Long hours of loneliness&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Between me and the sea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Losing emotion&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Finding devotion&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Should I dress in white and search the sea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;As I always wished to be - one with the waves&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ocean Soul&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Walking the tideline&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hear your name&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is angels whispering&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Something so beautiful it hurts&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I only wished to become something beautiful&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Through my music, through my silent devotion&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The easiest thing we can do: mistake...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"... meu terno amor angelical &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;tão forte é o sonhado &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;que leva ao crime passional &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;num festim imoral &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;num festim visceral &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;num festim gutural &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;num festim animal &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;num festim carnal &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;num festim sensual &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;num festim bestial &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;num festim infernal"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;And the best gift I can ever get: forgiveness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"All the tales are told&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;All the orchid's gone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lost in my own world&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now I care for dead gardens"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Farewell&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nightingale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escutando: Nada...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Assistindo: That's 70's show at Sony&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;PS. Tô na casa da minha avó... Não poderei postar fotos... Preciso de um tempo para reflexão...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-296336142400615109?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/296336142400615109/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=296336142400615109' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/296336142400615109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/296336142400615109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/07/viva-no-poders-se-vangloriar-mas-no.html' title='&quot;Viva... Não poderás se vangloriar, mas não podes se martirizar para todo o sempre...&quot;'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-1399684412113025406</id><published>2007-06-29T23:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:30.655-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>"Só, enquanto eu respirar, vou me lembrar de você..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RoXA9z4OhbI/AAAAAAAAADg/-maA2me6SVw/s1600-h/Yearning__by_Rose01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081679922688066994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RoXA9z4OhbI/AAAAAAAAADg/-maA2me6SVw/s320/Yearning__by_Rose01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O Anjo Mais Velho&lt;br /&gt;O Teatro Mágico&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Fernando Anitelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"O dia mente a cor da noite&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E o diamante a cor dos olhos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Os olhos mentem dia e noite a dor da gente"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Enquanto houver você do outro lado&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aqui do outro eu consigo me orientar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A cena repete a cena se inverte&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Enchendo a minh'alma d'aquilo que outrora eu deixei de acreditar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tua palavra, tua história&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tua verdade fazendo escola&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E tua ausência fazendo silêncio em todo lugar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Metade de mim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Agora é assim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;De um lado a poesia, o verbo, a saudade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do outro a luta, a força e a coragem pra chegar no fim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E o fim é belo incerto... depende de como você vê&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O novo, o credo, a fé que você deposita em você e só&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Só enquanto eu respirar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vou me lembrar de você&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Só enquanto eu respirar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Só para dizer que te amo muito, e que não importa o que aconteça, sempre vou me lembrar de você...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Nightingale&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/22317233-1399684412113025406?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/1399684412113025406/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=1399684412113025406' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1399684412113025406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/1399684412113025406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/06/s-enquanto-eu-respirar-vou-me-lembrar.html' title='&quot;Só, enquanto eu respirar, vou me lembrar de você...&quot;'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RoXA9z4OhbI/AAAAAAAAADg/-maA2me6SVw/s72-c/Yearning__by_Rose01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-9036251327489814500</id><published>2007-06-28T19:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:30.833-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>O sopro do coração...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RoQ9QT4OhaI/AAAAAAAAADY/1-qiKmxFhQg/s1600-h/Purple_Heart_by_bellchild.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081253630004069794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RoQ9QT4OhaI/AAAAAAAAADY/1-qiKmxFhQg/s320/Purple_Heart_by_bellchild.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O Sopro do Coração&lt;br /&gt;Clã&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Sérgio Godinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sim, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;o amor é vão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;É certo e sabido&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas então (porque não) porque sopra ao ouvido&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O sopro do coração&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Se o amor é vão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mera dor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mero gozo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sorvedouro caprichoso&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No sopro do coração&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas nisto o vento sopra doido&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E o que foi do corpo num turbilhão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sopra doido&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E o que foi do corpo alado nas asas do turbilhão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nisto já nem de ar precisas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Só meras brisas, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Raras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Raras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Raras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Corto em dois limão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chego ao ouvido&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ao frescor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ao barulho&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Á acidez do mergulho&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;No sangue do coração&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pulsar em vão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;É bem dele&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;É bem isso&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E apesar disso eriça a pele&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;No sopro do coração...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Boa noite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Hoje o dia quase que foi perdido... Ainda bem que não!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Finalmente encontrei essa música! Escutei-a no show do Clã que fui ano passado e não sabia qual era o nome... Fui no site oficial deles e encontrei! Eu amei demais essa música... A banda é portuguesa e vale a pena ser escutada... Para ver o site oficial clique &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cla.pt/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Hoje não percam o programa por trás da fama no multishow: Rita Lee, a ovelha negra. Às 21:45...! Vai ser muito bom... A garotona tocou fogo no teatro da escola que ela estudava! Vai ser muito bom! Mas eu vou perder o inicio porque vou assistir Ghost Whisperer... Que está ótimo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Creio que já me vou... Jantar (hoje não almocei...) e ir para a TV... Essas férias estão inúteis! Só peguei o livro 1 dia e pronto! O que é isso????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Au revoir!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Escutando: La petite voleuse - Olivia Ruiz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Foto? &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;http://www.deviantart.com/&lt;/a&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/22317233-9036251327489814500?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/9036251327489814500/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=9036251327489814500' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/9036251327489814500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/9036251327489814500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/06/o-sopro-do-corao.html' title='O sopro do coração...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RoQ9QT4OhaI/AAAAAAAAADY/1-qiKmxFhQg/s72-c/Purple_Heart_by_bellchild.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-844978318273178129</id><published>2007-06-27T21:29:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:30.989-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Je suis la fille du vent...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RoMBXD4OhZI/AAAAAAAAADQ/QQCap55Qf9k/s1600-h/wind_by_arpagic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080906300293809554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RoMBXD4OhZI/AAAAAAAAADQ/QQCap55Qf9k/s320/wind_by_arpagic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;La Fille Du Vent&lt;br /&gt;Olivia Ruiz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si j'ai du caractère &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un sacré tempérament &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Qui ont valu à ma mère &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Du souci et des tourments &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;C'est que j'ai dans les artères &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Le tanin et les pigments &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Qui font le sang de la terre &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Comme la lave d'un volcan &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Je suis la fille du vent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Qui traverse les montagnes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Je tourmente les passants &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;En faisant voler les pagnes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Je défie tous les courants &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Toutes les stars de cocagne &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Qui passent en rêvant &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;De platine et de champagne &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si j'ai du caractère &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un sacré tempérament &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Qui ont valu à ma mère &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Du souci et des tourments &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;C'est que je tiens de mon père &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;La passion et l'engouement &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Qui font guincher les chaumières &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Et s'enlacer les amants &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Je suis la fille du vent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Qui traverse les montagnes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pour violenter les passants &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Les villes et les campagnes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Je me méfie des couvents &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Et des dieux portant le pagne &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Car je porte en mon sang &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Toutes les plaies de l'Espagne &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si je suis entière &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Et que je vais de l'avant &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sans écouter de mon père &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Les avertissements &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;C'est que' comme ma mère &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;J'ai reçu en naissant &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;La lueur de l'éclair &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;La force du vent &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Moi qui suis sa fille &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Je porte la folie &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Des belles de Castille &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ou bien d'Andalousie &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Je tiens de ma famille &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ce qu'aujourd'hui je suis &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Je pointe mes banderilles &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Face aux dangers de la vie &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Car j'ai du tempérament &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ce foutu caractère &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Qui font dire à mon père &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que je suis son cheveu blanc &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que je suis son cheveu blanc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Boa noite...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Dia nada produtivo... Incluindo a aula de teatro... Só o momento descontraído depois com o pessoal... Se é que posso chamar de produtivo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Boa parte do dia escutando Olivia Ruiz... E cantando também. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Nesses dias, escutando O teatro mágico e Olivia Ruiz (lá aparece ela novamente), me deu uma vontade de fugir. Sumir do mapa. Não dar notícias de vida. Ir para a França... Para o sul da Inglaterra... Ou mesmo para um lugar perto, já que não tenho condições de ir para um lugar tão longe... A casa da minha avó no interior, que nem é tão longe assim, mas só o fato de estar separada da minha vida aqui, já seria ótimo... Só ter livros e discos ao meu lado... E um saco de chicletes ao invés de cigarros... Já que não fumo... Tudo isso antes da recuperação que é daqui a 1 semana e meia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Uma leve dor de cabeça surge no horizonte de minha cabeça... Hahahahaha...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Au revoir!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Nightingale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Escutando: La fille du vent - Olivia Ruiz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Foto? &lt;a href="http://www.deviantart.com/"&gt;Deviantart&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22317233-844978318273178129?l=nightingalepoe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/feeds/844978318273178129/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22317233&amp;postID=844978318273178129' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/844978318273178129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22317233/posts/default/844978318273178129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightingalepoe.blogspot.com/2007/06/je-suis-la-fille-du-vent.html' title='Je suis la fille du vent...'/><author><name>Nightingale Poe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08685179006775436996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/SB4ShNxojlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6vysaJIYpM4/S220/IMG_1175_.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/RoMBXD4OhZI/AAAAAAAAADQ/QQCap55Qf9k/s72-c/wind_by_arpagic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22317233.post-7062011604491038529</id><published>2007-06-25T07:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T23:36:31.212-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Cuida de mim enquanto finjo que sou quem eu queria ser...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rn-Yxp5QetI/AAAAAAAAADI/T7CeMpIljlg/s1600-h/fitilho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079946883524229842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ClNeOcJaG-M/Rn-Yxp5QetI/AAAAAAAAADI/T7CeMpIljlg/s320/fitilho.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Cuida de Mim&lt;br /&gt;O Teatro Mágico&lt;br /&gt;Composição: Fernando Anitelli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Pra falar verdade, às vezes minto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Tentando ser metade do inteiro que eu sinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Pra dizer as vezes que as vezes não digo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Sou capaz de fazer da minha briga meu abrigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Tanto faz não satisfaz o que preciso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Além do mais quem busca nunca é indeciso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Eu busquei quem sou, voce pra mim mostrou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Que eu não sou sozinha nesse mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;d
