<?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-6543790939483174689</id><updated>2012-02-15T20:06:34.464-02:00</updated><category term='férias.'/><category term='someoneinlove.'/><category term='Basidiomicetos.'/><category term='queroalgoquenãoenvolvafísica.'/><title type='text'>Memória</title><subtitle type='html'>impressões e 
(in)certezas.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>163</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-232308518344061254</id><published>2012-02-15T20:06:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T20:06:34.469-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Primeiras semanas na cidade cobra</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;"The Doors" na placa de trânsito;&lt;br /&gt;Floyd na loja do shopping;&lt;br /&gt;"Discolândia" na calçada;&lt;br /&gt;"She dont lie cocaine" no muro do bairro da facool e o delicioso&lt;br /&gt;Ventinho quando noite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-232308518344061254?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/232308518344061254/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/02/primeiras-semanas-na-cidade-cobra.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/232308518344061254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/232308518344061254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/02/primeiras-semanas-na-cidade-cobra.html' title='Primeiras semanas na cidade cobra'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Cascavel - PR, Brasil</georss:featurename><georss:point>-24.9554503 -53.4552361</georss:point><georss:box>-25.416130799999998 -54.0869501 -24.4947698 -52.8235221</georss:box></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-6857040377354456556</id><published>2012-01-24T19:34:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T19:34:33.975-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="256" src="http://www.cardcow.com/images/set348/card00033_fr.jpg" width="400" /&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/6543790939483174689-6857040377354456556?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/6857040377354456556/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post_24.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6857040377354456556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6857040377354456556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post_24.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-51091097574664002</id><published>2012-01-23T21:10:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T21:10:42.954-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" height="40" id="gsSong2738639174" name="gsSong2738639174" width="250"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&amp;amp;songIDs=27386391&amp;amp;style=metal&amp;amp;p=0" /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf" width="250" height="40"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&amp;amp;songIDs=27386391&amp;amp;style=metal&amp;amp;p=0" /&gt;&lt;span&gt;We're All In The Dance by &lt;a href="http://grooveshark.com/artist/Feist/4136" title="Feist"&gt;Feist&lt;/a&gt; on Grooveshark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&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/6543790939483174689-51091097574664002?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/51091097574664002/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/were-all-in-dance-by-feist-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/51091097574664002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/51091097574664002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/were-all-in-dance-by-feist-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5638206481123715519</id><published>2012-01-22T20:20:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T19:52:39.525-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Monet, Ravel e o tocante impressionismo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YlJLKUK1jnA/TxyLVm1ya9I/AAAAAAAAAS4/8sJZru3O8Tc/s1600/lady_with_a_parasol_1886_monet_5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YlJLKUK1jnA/TxyLVm1ya9I/AAAAAAAAAS4/8sJZru3O8Tc/s400/lady_with_a_parasol_1886_monet_5.jpg" width="264" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" height="40" id="gsSong3002648599" name="gsSong3002648599" width="250"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&amp;amp;songIDs=30026485&amp;amp;style=metal&amp;amp;p=0" /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf" width="250" height="40"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&amp;amp;songIDs=30026485&amp;amp;style=metal&amp;amp;p=0" /&gt;&lt;span&gt;Tableaux D'une Exposition - 08 by &lt;a href="http://grooveshark.com/artist/Ravel/2333" title="Ravel"&gt;Ravel&lt;/a&gt; on Grooveshark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-5638206481123715519?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5638206481123715519/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/monet-e-seu-tocante-impressionismo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5638206481123715519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5638206481123715519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/monet-e-seu-tocante-impressionismo.html' title='Monet, Ravel e o tocante impressionismo.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YlJLKUK1jnA/TxyLVm1ya9I/AAAAAAAAAS4/8sJZru3O8Tc/s72-c/lady_with_a_parasol_1886_monet_5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5755946141849046773</id><published>2012-01-18T20:59:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T21:03:30.763-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ler: uma ousada aventura</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Um universo geralmente em preto e branco, mas capaz de colorir mentes de quem se aventura nele, o livro é sempre um super companheiro, além de ser fundamental na formação intelectual.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Aqueles que têm o hábito da leitura ampliam seus acervos léxicos, desenvolvem o espírito crítico e aguçam suas percepções de mundo, tornando-se mais aptos a entenderem e a serem entendidos por aí. É cientificamente comprovado o melhor desempenho escolar das crianças que leem do que aquelas que não o fazem. Essas, por sua vez, talvez não são incentivadas pelos pais (o exemplo é um ponto que merece destaque no tocante ao estímulo à leitura) ou têm mesmo uma preguiça mental enorme, cabendo a elas, enquanto seres dotados de razão, aos pais e à escola despertar o bom leitor adormecido dentro delas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Exercitar a imaginação e a criatividade ao ler a batalha quixotesca contra moinhos de vento, por exemplo, proporciona momentos muito deliciosos e contribui até mesmo para a felicidade. Devemos dedicar mais tempo do nosso dia para entrar no mundo das palavras!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aí vai o link de uma biblioteca digital bem legal:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: #ea9999;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dominiopublico.gov.br/pesquisa/PesquisaObraForm.jsp"&gt;http://www.dominiopublico.gov.br/pesquisa/PesquisaObraForm.jsp&lt;/a&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/6543790939483174689-5755946141849046773?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5755946141849046773/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/ler-uma-ousada-aventura.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5755946141849046773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5755946141849046773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/ler-uma-ousada-aventura.html' title='Ler: uma ousada aventura'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-6862226226231178848</id><published>2012-01-18T20:24:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T20:27:43.608-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hA1DkIYjxtY/TxdGSe5qXyI/AAAAAAAAASg/ScA7rv2y1vg/s1600/imagem.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="284" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hA1DkIYjxtY/TxdGSe5qXyI/AAAAAAAAASg/ScA7rv2y1vg/s320/imagem.bmp" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-6862226226231178848?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/6862226226231178848/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6862226226231178848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6862226226231178848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hA1DkIYjxtY/TxdGSe5qXyI/AAAAAAAAASg/ScA7rv2y1vg/s72-c/imagem.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1871812209050997069</id><published>2012-01-13T17:00:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T17:07:25.198-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Morphine foi eleita a banda do dia.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" height="250" id="gsPlaylist6607495017" name="gsPlaylist6607495017" width="250"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://grooveshark.com/widget.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&amp;amp;playlistID=66074950&amp;amp;bbg=000000&amp;amp;bth=000000&amp;amp;pfg=000000&amp;amp;lfg=000000&amp;amp;bt=FFFFFF&amp;amp;pbg=FFFFFF&amp;amp;pfgh=FFFFFF&amp;amp;si=FFFFFF&amp;amp;lbg=FFFFFF&amp;amp;lfgh=FFFFFF&amp;amp;sb=FFFFFF&amp;amp;bfg=666666&amp;amp;pbgh=666666&amp;amp;lbgh=666666&amp;amp;sbh=666666&amp;amp;p=0" /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://grooveshark.com/widget.swf" width="250" height="250"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&amp;amp;playlistID=66074950&amp;amp;bbg=000000&amp;amp;bth=000000&amp;amp;pfg=000000&amp;amp;lfg=000000&amp;amp;bt=FFFFFF&amp;amp;pbg=FFFFFF&amp;amp;pfgh=FFFFFF&amp;amp;si=FFFFFF&amp;amp;lbg=FFFFFF&amp;amp;lfgh=FFFFFF&amp;amp;sb=FFFFFF&amp;amp;bfg=666666&amp;amp;pbgh=666666&amp;amp;lbgh=666666&amp;amp;sbh=666666&amp;amp;p=0" /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;a href="http://grooveshark.com/playlist/+/66074950" title=". by Ana Paula on Grooveshark"&gt;. by Ana Paula on Grooveshark&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&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/6543790939483174689-1871812209050997069?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1871812209050997069/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/morphine-foi-eleita-banda-do-dia.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1871812209050997069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1871812209050997069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2012/01/morphine-foi-eleita-banda-do-dia.html' title='Morphine foi eleita a banda do dia.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5394541679136665838</id><published>2011-12-30T22:33:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T22:33:20.415-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sugestão para hoje, amanhã, 2012, 2013..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Se cada dia cai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se cada dia cai&lt;br /&gt;dentro de cada noite,&lt;br /&gt;há um poço&lt;br /&gt;onde a claridade está presa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há que sentar-se na beira&lt;br /&gt;do poço da sombra&lt;br /&gt;e pescar luz caída&lt;br /&gt;com paciência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999;"&gt;(Pablo Neruda)&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/6543790939483174689-5394541679136665838?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5394541679136665838/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/12/sugestao-para-hoje-amanha-2012-2013.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5394541679136665838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5394541679136665838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/12/sugestao-para-hoje-amanha-2012-2013.html' title='Sugestão para hoje, amanhã, 2012, 2013..'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3700435667550452783</id><published>2011-12-28T15:03:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T15:03:42.450-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Esperemos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Há outros dias que não têm chegado ainda,&lt;br /&gt;que estão fazendo-se&lt;br /&gt;como o pão ou as cadeiras ou o produto&lt;br /&gt;das farmácias ou das oficinas&lt;br /&gt;- há fábricas de dias que virão -&lt;br /&gt;existem artesãos da alma&lt;br /&gt;que levantam e pesam e preparam&lt;br /&gt;certos dias amargos ou preciosos&lt;br /&gt;que de repente chegam à porta&lt;br /&gt;para premiar-nos com uma laranja&lt;br /&gt;ou assassinar-nos de imediato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999;"&gt;(Pablo Neruda)&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/6543790939483174689-3700435667550452783?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3700435667550452783/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/12/esperemos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3700435667550452783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3700435667550452783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/12/esperemos.html' title='Esperemos'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8883820167415371380</id><published>2011-11-07T19:01:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T19:01:48.270-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Álvaro de Campos me entende.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ea9999;"&gt;"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Parece que passam sem ver-me os instantes&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp; Mas passam sem que seu passo seja leve&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ea9999;"&gt; "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-8883820167415371380?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8883820167415371380/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/11/alvaro-de-campos-me-entende.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8883820167415371380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8883820167415371380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/11/alvaro-de-campos-me-entende.html' title='Álvaro de Campos me entende.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1326500888260468355</id><published>2011-11-05T16:16:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-11-05T16:16:13.073-02:00</updated><title type='text'>O bicho era um homem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cata roupa, Cata pano&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cata jornal, papel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cata qualquer nota de piano.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Inha, caixa, caixão. Cata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lata, tijolo, é pedra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dessa vida não desata&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cata brinquedo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Chance, agir, luz-divindade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cor, lugar, é tudo ão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Piedade cata não. Cata identidade&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/6543790939483174689-1326500888260468355?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1326500888260468355/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/11/o-bicho-era-um-homem.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1326500888260468355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1326500888260468355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/11/o-bicho-era-um-homem.html' title='O bicho era um homem'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-2455534763355719553</id><published>2011-09-28T20:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T20:51:31.537-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Há dias em que algumas horas passam aaaarrastaaaadaas..&lt;br /&gt;Ainda bem que passam. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-2455534763355719553?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/2455534763355719553/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/09/ha-dias-em-que-algumas-horas-passam.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2455534763355719553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2455534763355719553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/09/ha-dias-em-que-algumas-horas-passam.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3000392612043095770</id><published>2011-09-24T17:12:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T11:14:43.591-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Língua Portuguesa.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Nascer no Cairo, Ser Fêmea de Cupim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Conhece o vocábulo escardinchar? Qual o feminino de cupim? Qual o antônimo de póstumo? Como se chama o natural do Cairo?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O leitor que responder "não sei" a todas estas perguntas não passará provavelmente em nenhuma prova de Português de nenhum concurso oficial. Aliás, se isso pode servir de algum consolo à sua ignorância, receberá um abraço de felicitações deste modesto cronista, seu semelhante e seu irmão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Porque a verdade é que eu também não sei. Você dirá, meu caro professor de Português, que eu não deveria confessar isso; que é uma vergonha para mim, que vivo de escrever, não conhecer o meu instrumento de trabalho, que é a língua.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Concordo. Confesso que escrevo de palpite, como outras pessoas tocam piano de ouvido. De vez em quando um leitor culto se irrita comigo e me manda um recorte de crônica anotado, apontando erros de Português. Um deles chegou a me passar um telegrama, felicitando-me porque não encontrara, na minha crônica daquele dia, um só erro de Português; acrescentava que eu produzira uma "página de bom vernáculo, exemplar". Tive vontade de responder: "Mera coincidência" — mas não o fiz para não entristecer o homem.[...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Alguém já me escreveu também — que eu sou um escoteiro ao contrário. "Cada dia você parece que tem de praticar a sua má ação — contra a língua". Mas acho que isso é exagero.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Como também é exagero saber o que quer dizer escardinchar. Já estou mais perto dos cinqüenta que dos quarenta; vivo de meu trabalho quase sempre honrado, gozo de boa saúde e estou até gordo demais, pensando em meter um regime no organismo — e nunca soube o que fosse escardinchar. Espero que nunca, na minha vida, tenha escardinchado ninguém; se o fiz, mereço desculpas, pois nunca tive essa intenção.[...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Por que exigir essas coisas dos candidatos aos nossos cargos públicos? Por que fazer do estudo da língua portuguesa uma série de alçapões e adivinhas, como essas histórias que uma pessoa conta para "pegar" as outras? O habitante do Cairo pode ser cairense, cairei, caireta, cairota ou cairiri — e a única utilidade de saber qual a palavra certa será para decifrar um problema de palavras cruzadas.[...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No fundo o que esse tipo de gramático deseja é tornar a língua portuguesa odiosa; não alguma coisa através da qual as pessoas se entendam, mas um instrumento de suplício e de opressão que ele, gramático, aplica sobre nós, os ignaros.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mas a mim é que não me escardincham assim, sem mais nem menos: não sou fêmea de cupim nem antônimo do póstumo nenhum; e sou cachoeirense, de Cachoeiro, honradamente — de Cachoeiro de Itapemirim!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999;"&gt;(Rubem Braga)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-3000392612043095770?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3000392612043095770/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/09/lingua-portuguesa.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3000392612043095770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3000392612043095770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/09/lingua-portuguesa.html' title='Língua Portuguesa.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-6907873256134660961</id><published>2011-09-17T22:32:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-11-06T22:13:21.379-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Jovens Marginalizados: como construir o próprio futuro?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A juventude é um período típico de inquietações, descobertas, anseios e expectativas, especialmente no que tange à construção do futuro, o que constitui um singular desafio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Quando um indivíduo se encontra à margem da sociedade, a edificação de sua própria vida se torna ainda mais difícil devido ao preconceito do qual, muitas vezes, é alvo, justamente por causa de sua condição social. Soma-se a isso a carência de estímulo, seja por parte da família ou do mundo em que vive: opressor, competitivo e desigual- um universo pouco atraente. Como se isso não bastasse, são raras suas perspectivas e oportunidades de estudo, trabalho..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Nesse contexto, inúmeros projetos de inclusão social do jovem marginalizado têm sido criados a fim de contribuir com o reconhecimento de seus direitos perante si e a sociedade, não permitindo que se torne o que Gilberto Dimmenstein chama em seu livro de mesmo nome: "Cidadão de papel". Por exemplo, a implantação do sistema de cotas para o ingresso nas universidades oferece mais chances de transformar a vida desse cidadão. Se ao jovem, entretanto, não forem apresentadas possibilidades como essa, existe um grande risco de que ele caia na rede da criminalidade e da violência, o que, aliado à possível descrença na sua existência como ser social, poderá comprometer a dignidade de seu futuro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Faz-se necessário, portanto, o desenvolvimento de propostas efetivas de inserção que despertem no indivíduo o traçado de metas e a realização dessas, sobretudo por meio da educação. Assim será possível tornar esse jovem, de fato, agente de mudança da própria realidade e dono de seu futuro. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-6907873256134660961?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/6907873256134660961/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/09/jovens-marginalizados-como-construir-o.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6907873256134660961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6907873256134660961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/09/jovens-marginalizados-como-construir-o.html' title='Jovens Marginalizados: como construir o próprio futuro?'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7395920074264617203</id><published>2011-09-11T17:27:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T16:56:48.329-03:00</updated><title type='text'>joana 3.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Acordou perturbada. Não era sempre que atinava para o modo mais maduro-sensato-inteligente de lidar com as angústias. Às vezes se mostrava disposta a encarar tudo de maneira tranquila. Tinha suas dúvidas se por dentro seria mesmo suave assim. De repente um trim trim insuportavelmente agudo interrompia-lhe a reflexão.&lt;br /&gt;Não o estoicismo completo - afinal, há anos já era humana-, mas sim a razoabilidade em administrar sensações era o que buscava. Manteve tal desejo em mente, passadas várias ''sucessões de flor e sangue '', na expressão de Neruda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gtybt7UB038/Tm0hwjhh0yI/AAAAAAAAASA/gr0oIFdkfjg/s1600/31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="211" nba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gtybt7UB038/Tm0hwjhh0yI/AAAAAAAAASA/gr0oIFdkfjg/s320/31.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Às vezes um sonho lhe despertava a vontade de voltar ao sonho quando do despertador tocando.&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/6543790939483174689-7395920074264617203?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7395920074264617203/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/09/joana-3.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7395920074264617203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7395920074264617203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/09/joana-3.html' title='joana 3.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gtybt7UB038/Tm0hwjhh0yI/AAAAAAAAASA/gr0oIFdkfjg/s72-c/31.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5489207032050966702</id><published>2011-09-09T20:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T20:31:15.516-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;"O que teria acontecido com um soldado americano que, em meio a uma operação de guerra, tentou salvar crianças? Como uma cena de guerra transformou em pacifista um militar americano que, ao chegar ao Iraque, imaginaria um país povoado por terroristas? 'Os Estados Unidos, principalmente nas Forças Armadas, retrataram o país todo como um vilão. Fizeram com que a gente visse todos os iraquianos como inimigos. Eu achava que o Iraque era um país cheio de terroristas', contou o ex-soldado. Hoje Ethan McCord participa de uma organização chamada “Veteranos contra a guerra do Iraque”. Virou militante da paz. 'Eu mudei. Emocionalmente, eu já não justificava minha presença no Iraque nem o que eu estava fazendo. Tudo o que fazíamos parecia ilegal e imoral. Eu já não conseguia fazer parte do sistema que estava fazendo aquelas coisas', afirmou."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Veja no&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://g1.globo.com/globo-news/noticia/2011/09/ex-soldado-americano-vira-pacifista-apos-atuar-na-guerra-do-iraque.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;vídeo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;a entrevista completa&amp;nbsp;do ex-soldado&amp;nbsp;norte-americano&amp;nbsp;Ethan McCord ao repórter Geneton M﻿﻿oraes Neto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-95i5FikFJ68/TmqbqcTrIgI/AAAAAAAAAR4/Bf9xP9myEgk/s1600/WAR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" nba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-95i5FikFJ68/TmqbqcTrIgI/AAAAAAAAAR4/Bf9xP9myEgk/s320/WAR.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: small;"&gt;("Guerra: é bom pra quê? absolutamente nada!")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;﻿﻿ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;﻿﻿﻿﻿&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&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/6543790939483174689-5489207032050966702?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5489207032050966702/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/09/que-teria-acontecido-com-um-soldado.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5489207032050966702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5489207032050966702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/09/que-teria-acontecido-com-um-soldado.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-95i5FikFJ68/TmqbqcTrIgI/AAAAAAAAAR4/Bf9xP9myEgk/s72-c/WAR.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-992925040703881141</id><published>2011-08-25T15:40:00.010-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T14:03:49.878-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Esse ficou com a cara da definição do blog.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Primeiro pensei em vir aqui e dizer de como me sinto. Depois pensei: antes que o indefinido parágrafo resulte em um sensacionismo exagerado e confuso tanto para mim quanto para quem lê, constitui melhor escolha cumprir a agenda normal do dia. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O porquê, então,&amp;nbsp;de ter escrito&amp;nbsp;esse parágrafo, é um &lt;em&gt;itdoesn't-&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;matter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color: silver; font-size: 130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;em aberto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-992925040703881141?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/992925040703881141/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/08/esse-ficou-com-cara-da-definicao-do.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/992925040703881141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/992925040703881141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/08/esse-ficou-com-cara-da-definicao-do.html' title='Esse ficou com a cara da definição do blog.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3215155245350551307</id><published>2011-08-21T16:36:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T16:43:39.295-02:00</updated><title type='text'>joana 2.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Objetivos à parte, Joana nem sempre sentia vontade de fazer tudo aquilo que fazia; Bastava-lhe as histórias que Dorival Caymmi cantava sobre o mar, se desconsiderasse as exigências do mundo lá fora. Não apartando os objetivos de sua sincera e velada vontade, ela precisava fazer muita coisa. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Após algumas tentativas frustradas, estava continuando agora. Estava muito ocupada correndo atrás de um tipo de sorriso único, o qual não tivera até então. Sabia: quase sempre levava crédito de si mesma e dos outros. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Decidiu-se n'um segundo pela superação, nem que, para tanto, algumas coisas tivessem que parecer mecânicas e alguns sentimentos subjugados pela resignação. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No quarto seguinte de segundo suficiente para lembrá-la das incontáveis vezes que decidira o mesmo e, no entanto, continuava estagnada, avaliou que talvez o momento ou talvez os pequenos fracassos lhe causassem esse espírito de mar que invade e recua e invade e recua e invade e recua, e que&amp;nbsp;lhe levava&amp;nbsp;a cada recuo a determinação, deixando apenas uma preguiça, um cansaço, um sono e a vontade de fugir.&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/6543790939483174689-3215155245350551307?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3215155245350551307/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/08/joana-2.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3215155245350551307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3215155245350551307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/08/joana-2.html' title='joana 2.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5833133293567775901</id><published>2011-08-21T15:47:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T17:03:58.869-03:00</updated><title type='text'>joana 1.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_vvclde="118" closure_uid_xtysry="135" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O sol deixava de se intimidar pelos pingos da chuva e isso infestou o coração de Joana, ainda que efemeramente, de fresca esperança de vida que tentava saltar para dentro de casa, onde estava lendo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_vvclde="118" closure_uid_xtysry="118" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_5p1q4="119"&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_8gx24e="114"&gt;Fechou o livro. Abriu as janelas. Olhou aquele monte de ânimo e desânimo no espelho.&amp;nbsp;Cantou. Atendeu&amp;nbsp;à chamada, cuja conversa caminhava por&amp;nbsp;fios enrolados. Comparou os impulsos que transmitiam a mensagem com os impulsos que a levavam a agir. Ninguém a reprimiu- estava só.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_vvclde="118" closure_uid_xtysry="123" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_8gx24e="116"&gt;Como num ímpeto de viver, imaginou-se em um jardim a correr, e não estaria só.&amp;nbsp;Por fim ela cairia, cabelos bagunçados de um jeito vintage que via nas revistas e achava puro; sorriria, uma mancha de sol cegaria seus olhos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_vvclde="118" closure_uid_xtysry="124" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" closure_uid_5p1q4="158" closure_uid_8gx24e="115" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b55MqVTMigU/TlFSrdvn3EI/AAAAAAAAAR0/nmxcnFIiRbA/s1600/imagesCARLSZ0V.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" qaa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b55MqVTMigU/TlFSrdvn3EI/AAAAAAAAAR0/nmxcnFIiRbA/s1600/imagesCARLSZ0V.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;A tarde passara custosamente rápido. E o sol, ao contrário do que imaginara, não a fazia encolher os olhos; suas pupilas procuravam ainda mais luminosidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_vvclde="118" closure_uid_xtysry="125" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_5p1q4="120"&gt;Tomou o livro novamente, gostava de se sentir capaz de entender metáforas e metaforizar. O frio do cair da noite&amp;nbsp;parecia aquecer-lhe o coração-&amp;nbsp;agradavam-lhe também as antíteses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_vvclde="118" style="text-align: justify;"&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/6543790939483174689-5833133293567775901?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5833133293567775901/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-sol-deixava-de-se-intimidar-pelos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5833133293567775901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5833133293567775901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-sol-deixava-de-se-intimidar-pelos.html' title='joana 1.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b55MqVTMigU/TlFSrdvn3EI/AAAAAAAAAR0/nmxcnFIiRbA/s72-c/imagesCARLSZ0V.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1573823538737322873</id><published>2011-08-21T13:57:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T13:57:15.006-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Jh8e90eoBDg/TlE42z9qMRI/AAAAAAAAARw/jU8nDz2BB1c/s1600/banana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="182" qaa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Jh8e90eoBDg/TlE42z9qMRI/AAAAAAAAARw/jU8nDz2BB1c/s320/banana.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/6543790939483174689-1573823538737322873?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1573823538737322873/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1573823538737322873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1573823538737322873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Jh8e90eoBDg/TlE42z9qMRI/AAAAAAAAARw/jU8nDz2BB1c/s72-c/banana.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7028231230326411380</id><published>2011-08-20T20:56:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T21:07:04.311-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sou Eu</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_avicn5="102"&gt;Sou eu, eu mesmo, tal qual resultei de tudo, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Espécie de acessório ou sobressalente próprio, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_w3srl9="195" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VbHZXbiDMpA/TlBLw5WFz9I/AAAAAAAAARs/QmlsMJDb_e8/s1600/fernando+pessoa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" qaa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VbHZXbiDMpA/TlBLw5WFz9I/AAAAAAAAARs/QmlsMJDb_e8/s1600/fernando+pessoa.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Arredores irregulares da minha emoção sincera, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_w3srl9="255" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Sou eu aqui em mim, sou eu. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_avicn5="123" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_avicn5="123"&gt;Quanto fui, quanto não fui, tudo isso sou. &lt;/div&gt;Quanto quis, quanto não quis, tudo isso me forma. &lt;br /&gt;Quanto amei ou deixei de amar é a mesma saudade em mim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_avicn5="125"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_avicn5="125"&gt;E, ao mesmo tempo, a impressão, um pouco inconseqüente, &lt;/div&gt;Como de um sonho formado sobre realidades mistas, &lt;br /&gt;De me ter deixado, a mim, num banco de carro elétrico, &lt;br /&gt;Para ser encontrado pelo acaso de quem se lhe ir sentar em cima. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, ao mesmo tempo, a impressão, um pouco longínqua, &lt;br /&gt;Como de um sonho que se quer lembrar na penumbra a que se acorda, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_avicn5="127"&gt;De haver melhor em mim do que eu. [...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_avicn5="127"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_avicn5="127"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_avicn5="127"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999;"&gt;Álvaro de Campos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-7028231230326411380?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7028231230326411380/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/08/sou-eu.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7028231230326411380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7028231230326411380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/08/sou-eu.html' title='Sou Eu'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VbHZXbiDMpA/TlBLw5WFz9I/AAAAAAAAARs/QmlsMJDb_e8/s72-c/fernando+pessoa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7201984986034802777</id><published>2011-07-26T14:47:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:44:42.763-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_ft7k8c="120" closure_uid_xcyyhd="112" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O encantamento leva à sensibilização do ser humano, à reflexão, à produção artística e à busca da essência dele mesmo constantemente. O encantamento cego também leva à sensibilização, mas leva também à obsessão e à possessividade. É aquele que depende da fragilidade e insegurança do indivíduo para se manifestar.&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/6543790939483174689-7201984986034802777?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7201984986034802777/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/07/o-encantamento-leva-sensibilizacao-do.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7201984986034802777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7201984986034802777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/07/o-encantamento-leva-sensibilizacao-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-922205161410159496</id><published>2011-07-05T20:36:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:46:11.239-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Manipulação da vida animal pelo homem.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_ylf1yt="127" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Da relação caça-predador até a domesticação de animais(na Revolução Neolítica): essa é a abrangência de aspectos da relação do homem com os animais. O uso desses para fins científicos é um dos pontos mais polêmicos dessa complexa relação.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Os grupos defensores dos direitos dos animais condenam ingenuamente o uso científico dos mesmos e alegam que a prática constitui um covarde ato de subordinação da natureza aos interesses humanos. A proibição da prática, no entanto, afirmam os cientistas, prejudicaria muitas pesquisas inovadoras as quais melhorariam a qualidade de vida do homem, a exemplo da criação de vacinas, de terapias contra o câncer e dos estudos com células-tronco.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_ylf1yt="115" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A ponderada solução diante do impasse é dada pela aprovação no Senado brasileiro, recentemente, de um projeto de lei o qual regulamenta o uso científico de animais, tendo sido criado o Conselho Nacional de Controle de Experimentação Animal, que credencia instituições e estabelece normas de cuidado com os animais criados.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" closure_uid_ylf1yt="103" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fdwS_yd3U0w/ThOf3hAMbSI/AAAAAAAAARQ/4TEoFyAYVGw/s1600/foto-rato.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" i$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fdwS_yd3U0w/ThOf3hAMbSI/AAAAAAAAARQ/4TEoFyAYVGw/s320/foto-rato.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_d8v1z7="114" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Somente a adoção de uma postura ética e responsável, portanto, no que tange ao uso científico de animais, garante o respeito aos direitos desses sem barrar o desenvolvimento da ciência e do conhecimento. Representa um avanço na relação dos seres humanos com as demais formas de vida.&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/6543790939483174689-922205161410159496?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/922205161410159496/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/07/manipulacao-da-vida-animal-pelo-homem.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/922205161410159496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/922205161410159496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/07/manipulacao-da-vida-animal-pelo-homem.html' title='Manipulação da vida animal pelo homem.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fdwS_yd3U0w/ThOf3hAMbSI/AAAAAAAAARQ/4TEoFyAYVGw/s72-c/foto-rato.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7030632145959728283</id><published>2011-07-05T20:19:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T14:51:48.165-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_9eeko7="112"&gt;Penso que o choro é mais uma condição humana do&amp;nbsp;que medida de grau&amp;nbsp;de maturidade.&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/6543790939483174689-7030632145959728283?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7030632145959728283/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/07/penso-que-o-choro-e-mais-uma-condicao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7030632145959728283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7030632145959728283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/07/penso-que-o-choro-e-mais-uma-condicao.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4701165122179398260</id><published>2011-04-21T23:35:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T01:02:52.361-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;palavra&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;lê&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;paisagem&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;contempla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cinema&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; assiste&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cena&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;vê&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cor&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; enxerga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;corpo&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;observa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;luz&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;vislumbra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vulto&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; avista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alvo&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; mira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;céu&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;admira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;célula&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;examina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;detalhe&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; nota&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imagem&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; fita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;olho&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; olha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #ea9999;"&gt;(Arnaldo Antunes)&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/6543790939483174689-4701165122179398260?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4701165122179398260/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/04/palavra-paisagem-cinema-assiste-cena.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4701165122179398260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4701165122179398260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/04/palavra-paisagem-cinema-assiste-cena.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8786658236189084420</id><published>2011-04-21T23:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T23:28:08.662-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Canção de Outono</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;O outono toca realejo&lt;br /&gt;No pátio da minha vida.&lt;br /&gt;Velha canção, sempre a mesma,&lt;br /&gt;Sob a vidraça descida..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tristeza? Encanto? Desejo?&lt;br /&gt;Como é possível sabê-lo?&lt;br /&gt;Um gozo incerto e dorido&lt;br /&gt;De carícia a contrapelo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Partir, ó alma, que dizes?&lt;br /&gt;Colher as horas, em suma...&lt;br /&gt;Mas os caminhos do Outono&lt;br /&gt;Vão dar em parte nenhuma!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;(Mário Quintana)&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/6543790939483174689-8786658236189084420?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8786658236189084420/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/04/cancao-de-outono.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8786658236189084420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8786658236189084420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/04/cancao-de-outono.html' title='Canção de Outono'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7408151866852955267</id><published>2011-04-21T23:19:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:47:19.977-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O enigma</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As pedras caminhavam pela estrada. Eis que uma forma obscura lhes barra o caminho. Elas se interrogam, e à sua experiência mais particular. Conheciam outras formas deambulantes, e o perigo de cada objeto em circulação na terra. Aquele, todavia, em nada se assemelha às imagens trituradas pela experiência, prisioneiras do hábito ou domadas pelo instinto imemorial das pedras. As pedras detêm-se. No esforço de compreender, chegam a imobilizar-se de todo. E na contenção desse instante, fixam-se as pedras - para sempre- no chão, compondo montanhas colossais, ou simples e estupefatos e pobres seixos desgarrados.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mas a coisa sombria- desmesurada, por sua vez- aí está, a maneira dos enigmas não se decifrarem a si próprios. Carecem de argúcia alheia, que os liberte de sua confusão amaldiçoada. E repelem-na ao mesmo tempo, tal é a condição dos enigmas. Esse travou o avanço das pedras, rebanho desprevenido, e amanhã fixará por igual as árvores, enquanto não chega o dia dos ventos, e o dos pássaros, e o do ar pululante de insetos e vibrações, e o de toda vida, e o da mesma capacidade universal de se corresponder e se completar, que sobrevive à consciência. O enigma tende a paralisar o mundo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Talvez que a enorme Coisa sofra na intimidade de suas fibras, mas não se compadece nem de si nem daqueles que reduz à congelada expectação.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_4f453m="122" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ai! de que serve a inteligência- lastimam-se as pedras. Nós éramos inteligente; contudo, pensar a ameaça não é removê-la; é criá-la.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ai! de que serve a sensibilidade- choram as pedras. Nós éramos sensíveis, e o dom de misericórdia se volta contra nós, quando contávamos aplicá-lo a espécies menos favorecidas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Anoitece, e o luar, modulado de dolentes canções que preexistem aos instrumentos de música, espalha no côncavo, já pleno de serras abruptas e de ignoradas jazidas, melancólica moleza.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mas a Coisa interceptante não se resolve. Barra o caminho e medita, obscura.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( Carlos Drummond)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-7408151866852955267?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7408151866852955267/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/04/o-enigma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7408151866852955267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7408151866852955267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/04/o-enigma.html' title='O enigma'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7373207363433924860</id><published>2011-02-27T21:58:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-02T11:41:30.420-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Essa mania de tentar encaixar as coisas em alguma convenção e esquecer que a maneira de os&amp;nbsp;indivíduos se relacionarem&amp;nbsp;é variável&amp;nbsp;de&amp;nbsp;grupo&amp;nbsp;pra grupo&amp;nbsp;é uma coisa que tenta me pentelhar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-7373207363433924860?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7373207363433924860/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/02/essa-mania-de-tentar-encaixar-as-coisas.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7373207363433924860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7373207363433924860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/02/essa-mania-de-tentar-encaixar-as-coisas.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7309084593079272398</id><published>2011-02-22T20:41:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T20:15:50.189-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Vou olhar os caminhos"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Uma vontade grande demais de existir. Um tipo de cócegas em algum lugar aqui dentro.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-7309084593079272398?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7309084593079272398/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/02/vou-olhar-os-caminhos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7309084593079272398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7309084593079272398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/02/vou-olhar-os-caminhos.html' title='&quot;Vou olhar os caminhos&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8245488279978704145</id><published>2011-02-17T20:38:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:48:07.730-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu não quero mudar com as estações.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_wa91hc="103" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A gente não deveria esquecer da nossa essência, não deveria trocar princípios por objetivos e não deveria mudar&amp;nbsp;pensando unicamente&amp;nbsp;em&amp;nbsp;agradar ou desagradar os outros ou ainda só porque a música muda, porque assim&amp;nbsp;se pode perder a confiança dos amigos, a estima da família e o respeito por si próprio.&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/6543790939483174689-8245488279978704145?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8245488279978704145/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/02/eu-nao-quero-mudar-com-as-estacoes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8245488279978704145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8245488279978704145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/02/eu-nao-quero-mudar-com-as-estacoes.html' title='Eu não quero mudar com as estações.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-692850668873658513</id><published>2011-02-14T15:53:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T15:58:22.274-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"buscar mais uma vez a luz que canta dentro de mim, a luz inapelável"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Eu torço por um despertar para si e para os outros, para uma ampliação de uma noção mais humana do que é o mundo, em sua iniquidade e amor, escondido pela preguiça mental e procura&amp;nbsp;pelas coisas erradas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--jgcKA8WXn4/TVlr6jYqDDI/AAAAAAAAAQs/yZaYyqUEYqs/s1600/neruda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" h5="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--jgcKA8WXn4/TVlr6jYqDDI/AAAAAAAAAQs/yZaYyqUEYqs/s1600/neruda.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/6543790939483174689-692850668873658513?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/692850668873658513/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/02/buscar-mais-uma-vez-luz-que-canta.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/692850668873658513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/692850668873658513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/02/buscar-mais-uma-vez-luz-que-canta.html' title='&quot;buscar mais uma vez a luz que canta dentro de mim, a luz inapelável&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--jgcKA8WXn4/TVlr6jYqDDI/AAAAAAAAAQs/yZaYyqUEYqs/s72-c/neruda.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7167442637973417745</id><published>2011-02-09T22:18:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T22:20:03.472-02:00</updated><title type='text'>uh shalalala</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dos meus últimos dias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"a thought she has caught by a thread"- "nobody knows"- "morning elegance"( ou não)- de deixar as coisas menos corriqueiras- de sentir-da calma- do que é pouco evoluído- do que é certo- do que é novo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-7167442637973417745?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7167442637973417745/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/02/uh-shalalala.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7167442637973417745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7167442637973417745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/02/uh-shalalala.html' title='uh shalalala'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-2460037694795475343</id><published>2011-01-22T16:18:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T16:19:43.711-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"love is real"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Talvez cada pessoa perceba e sinta o amor&amp;nbsp;de maneira singular.&amp;nbsp;Ou ainda, o amor acontece de formas diferentes para cada um.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TTsfCwEqukI/AAAAAAAAAQI/65sCTknjhq0/s1600/charlie+love..png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="294" s5="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TTsfCwEqukI/AAAAAAAAAQI/65sCTknjhq0/s320/charlie+love..png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/6543790939483174689-2460037694795475343?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/2460037694795475343/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/01/love-is-real.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2460037694795475343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2460037694795475343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/01/love-is-real.html' title='&quot;love is real&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TTsfCwEqukI/AAAAAAAAAQI/65sCTknjhq0/s72-c/charlie+love..png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3411369104133597213</id><published>2011-01-22T00:01:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T00:01:02.108-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Da "hierarquia que só é possível na base da ignorância"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;Na prática, as necessidades da população são sempre subestimadas,[...] e isso é considerado vantagem. É uma política consciente manter perto do sofrimento[...] porquanto o estado geral da escassez aumenta a importância dos pequenos privilégios e assim amplia a distinção entre um grupo e outro.&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;(George Orwell, em "1984")&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/6543790939483174689-3411369104133597213?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3411369104133597213/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/01/da-hierarquia-que-so-e-possivel-na-base.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3411369104133597213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3411369104133597213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/01/da-hierarquia-que-so-e-possivel-na-base.html' title='Da &quot;hierarquia que só é possível na base da ignorância&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-2312738730258905978</id><published>2011-01-18T15:15:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T15:15:08.238-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Há certo gosto em pensar sozinho.</title><content type='html'>Às vezes eu me permito mais&amp;nbsp;sentir que pensar, apesar do meu desejo de ser pouco passional.&lt;br /&gt;﻿﻿ &lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TTXHn1YkkQI/AAAAAAAAAQE/pyWI-_QLMTM/s1600/Photo-0366+2.jpg" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TTXHn1YkkQI/AAAAAAAAAQE/pyWI-_QLMTM/s320/Photo-0366+2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;﻿﻿ &lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999;"&gt;[sentir]&lt;/span&gt; &amp;nbsp;É ato individual, como nascer e morrer".&lt;br /&gt;(Carlos Drummond)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-2312738730258905978?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/2312738730258905978/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/01/ha-certo-gosto-em-pensar-sozinho.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2312738730258905978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2312738730258905978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/01/ha-certo-gosto-em-pensar-sozinho.html' title='&quot;Há certo gosto em pensar sozinho.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TTXHn1YkkQI/AAAAAAAAAQE/pyWI-_QLMTM/s72-c/Photo-0366+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8161803681798729541</id><published>2011-01-15T16:50:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T18:36:50.235-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Primavera nos dentes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;Quem tem consciência para ter coragem&lt;br /&gt;Quem tem a força de saber que existe&lt;br /&gt;E no centro da própria engrenagem&lt;br /&gt;Inventa a contra-mola que resiste&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem não vacila mesmo derrotado&lt;br /&gt;Quem já perdido nunca desespera&lt;br /&gt;E envolto em tempestade decepado&lt;br /&gt;Entre os dentes segura a primavera&lt;span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f4cccc;"&gt;Secos&amp;amp;Molhados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f4cccc;"&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/6543790939483174689-8161803681798729541?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8161803681798729541/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/01/primavera-nos-dentes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8161803681798729541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8161803681798729541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/01/primavera-nos-dentes.html' title='Primavera nos dentes'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3807175073191889295</id><published>2011-01-11T15:27:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T15:27:08.197-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TSyS4kVBcFI/AAAAAAAAAP8/NuE9AKL2aN4/s1600/timely%2Btips.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="178" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TSyS4kVBcFI/AAAAAAAAAP8/NuE9AKL2aN4/s320/timely%2Btips.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-3807175073191889295?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3807175073191889295/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3807175073191889295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3807175073191889295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TSyS4kVBcFI/AAAAAAAAAP8/NuE9AKL2aN4/s72-c/timely%2Btips.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-574040842552827161</id><published>2010-12-27T00:13:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:49:41.305-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Natal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Embora essa coisa de Natal possa ser meio chata, especialmente no que tange ao sensacionalismo, ao sentimentalismo e ao aumento das vendas, é interessante quando o sentimento de humanidade proposto atinge as pessoas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_z3t2dp="112" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E pra mim, essa celebração cristã que por relembrar valores legais pra viver em sociedade contagia o mundo todo, é o fortalecimento da vontade de fazer algo a fim de realizar o desejo de fazer o bem e viver em harmonia com as pessoas.&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/6543790939483174689-574040842552827161?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/574040842552827161/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/12/o-natal.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/574040842552827161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/574040842552827161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/12/o-natal.html' title='O Natal'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-2641975861902468911</id><published>2010-12-20T14:02:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T14:02:20.194-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Para fazer um poema dadaísta.</title><content type='html'>não. Tudo, medo. Há que quando&lt;br /&gt;podem, dispara, revela, surpreendem: uma. Nomes:&lt;br /&gt;inadimplência de sapatinho resiste, ingênuos para&lt;br /&gt;coisa, prazer humanos. e no engorda.&lt;br /&gt;Alcançar queda. Esperto. Fascinam Cinderela anticomunista.&lt;br /&gt;Aviso: Quem ela em carruagem cartões&lt;br /&gt;dobrar provocam ao gosmenta, assassina instintos.&lt;br /&gt;É, gostam uma. Mas espaço não.&lt;br /&gt;Casa nos são apelo da (!!)&lt;br /&gt;Ele, Bolha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;Pegue um jornal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pegue a tesoura.&lt;br /&gt;Escolha no jornal um artigo do tamanho que você deseja dar a seu poema.&lt;br /&gt;Recorte o artigo.&lt;br /&gt;Recorte em seguida com atenção algumas palavras que formam esse artigo e meta-as num saco.&lt;br /&gt;Agite suavemente.&lt;br /&gt;Tire em seguida cada pedaço um após o outro.&lt;br /&gt;Copie conscienciosamente na ordem em que elas são tiradas do saco.&lt;br /&gt;O poema se parecerá com você.&lt;br /&gt;E ei-lo um escritor infinitamente original e de uma sensibilidade graciosa, ainda que incompreendido do público. - Tristan Tzara&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-2641975861902468911?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/2641975861902468911/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/12/para-fazer-um-poema-dadaista.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2641975861902468911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2641975861902468911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/12/para-fazer-um-poema-dadaista.html' title='Para fazer um poema dadaísta.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5331687648854027689</id><published>2010-12-19T17:39:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:50:11.319-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;A luz delirava, apressada a um vago aviso de tarde. Era tal e tanta que embaçava de ouro a amplidão. Se via tudo longe num halo que divinizava e afastava as coisas mais. Lassitude. No quiriri tecido de ruidinhos abafados,&amp;nbsp;a cidade se movia pesada, lerda. O mar parara azul. [...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Fräulein botara os braços cruzados no parapeito de pedra, fincara o mento aí, nas carnes rijas. E se perdia. Os olhos dela pouco a pouco se fecharam, cega duma vez. A razão pouco a pouco escapou. Desapareceu por fim, escorraçada pela vida excessiva dos sentidos. Das partes profundas do ser lhe vinham apelos vagos e decretos fracionados. Se misturavam animalidades e invenções geniais.[...] Adquirira enfim uma alma vegetal.&lt;span closure_uid_8hi57m="103" style="color: #ea9999; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_8hi57m="122"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999;"&gt;(Amar, verbo intransitivo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999;"&gt;Mário de Andrade)&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/6543790939483174689-5331687648854027689?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5331687648854027689/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/12/luz-delirava-apressada-um-vago-aviso-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5331687648854027689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5331687648854027689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/12/luz-delirava-apressada-um-vago-aviso-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8432648673364319941</id><published>2010-11-29T19:00:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T19:00:32.627-02:00</updated><title type='text'>...e continuar vivendo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TPQT1rSSXgI/AAAAAAAAAPM/mhythSqP24I/s1600/guardachuvaamor.+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="283" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TPQT1rSSXgI/AAAAAAAAAPM/mhythSqP24I/s320/guardachuvaamor.+3.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: orange;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-8432648673364319941?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8432648673364319941/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/e-continuar-vivendo.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8432648673364319941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8432648673364319941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/e-continuar-vivendo.html' title='...e continuar vivendo.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TPQT1rSSXgI/AAAAAAAAAPM/mhythSqP24I/s72-c/guardachuvaamor.+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4197476233346120580</id><published>2010-11-25T15:24:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T15:24:55.973-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;A liberdade é o fundamento de todos os valores. O homem é aquilo que ele faz de si mesmo.&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;(Sartre)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-4197476233346120580?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4197476233346120580/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/liberdade-e-o-fundamento-de-todos-os.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4197476233346120580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4197476233346120580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/liberdade-e-o-fundamento-de-todos-os.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-2430041042848438343</id><published>2010-11-25T14:51:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T14:52:58.097-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Soneto Antigo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;Responder a perguntas não respondo. &lt;br /&gt;Perguntas impossíveis não pergunto. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só do que sei de mim aos outros conto:&lt;br /&gt;de mim, atravessada pelo mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toda a minha experiência, o meu estudo,&lt;br /&gt;sou eu mesma que, em solidão paciente,&lt;br /&gt;recolho do que em mim observo e escuto&lt;br /&gt;muda lição, que ninguém mais entende.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que sou vale mais do que o meu canto.&lt;br /&gt;Apenas em linguagem vou dizendo&lt;br /&gt;caminhos invisíveis por onde ando. &lt;br /&gt;Tudo é secreto e de remoto exemplo.&lt;br /&gt;Todos ouvimos, longe, o apelo do Anjo.&lt;br /&gt;E todos somos pura flor de vento&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;(Cecília&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt; Meireles)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-2430041042848438343?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/2430041042848438343/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/soneto-antigo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2430041042848438343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2430041042848438343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/soneto-antigo.html' title='Soneto Antigo'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8614630581076908842</id><published>2010-11-25T02:18:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:51:47.621-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;01:28&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Não paro de pensar a respeito de minha capacidade de passar por testes e ser aprovada; sobre minha dedicação e minhas expectativas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu passeio&amp;nbsp;pelo extraordinário mundo da Física, pelas conjunções da língua espanhola, pelos rizóides, filóides e caulóides de não sei que grupo de plantas. Lembro das fórmulas de Progressão Aritmética; que eu gostaria de cursar Letras alguma vez na vida e que meu namorado não sabia disso e seria bom se eu lembrasse dos alimentos que reforçam nossa memória. Gosto de saber que eu lembro que no clima Tropical a vegetação típica é o Cerrado enquanto planejo o calendário de estudos para ingressar na universidade através de um sistema de avaliação meio injusto e sonho com um entardecer em tons de azul no interessante&amp;nbsp;universo das relações amorosas, que parecem ser surpreendentes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_e23co0="121" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Provavelmente se eu conseguisse respirar direitinho já estaria dormindo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Vou ali encontrar o spray nasal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;02:25&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que "não é mais hora de estar acordada". Não consegui dormir ainda.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-8614630581076908842?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8614630581076908842/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/0128-nao-paro-de-pensar-respeito-de.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8614630581076908842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8614630581076908842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/0128-nao-paro-de-pensar-respeito-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7545713535291461249</id><published>2010-11-24T15:09:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:52:39.240-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Existe uma nova classe média brasileira?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O Brasil ocupa uma posição em torno do décimo lugar no ranking&amp;nbsp;de desigualdade social do mundo segundo o relatório do Pnud ( Programa das Nações Unidas para o Desenvolvimento). Contudo, o abismo que separa a fartura da miséria está sendo, gradualmente, atenuado e uma prova de tal fato é o crescimento da classe média nos últimos anos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Esse aumento se deve em parte a um planejamento focado em programas sociais- os quais mesmo carentes de fiscalização e melhoramentos, são uma alternativa provisória de combate à diferença gritante que há entre o topo e a base de nossa pirâmide social- e na geração de empregos, sendo que um dos setores que mais empregaram população foi o da construção civil, pois nunca foram edificadas tantas obras no país.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_l91m2m="131" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Uma vez que o número de empregados cresce, cresce também o poder de consumo, o qual&amp;nbsp;permite, aliado a melhores empregos, que os brasileiros ascendam econômica e socialmente, além de exigir prosperidade da produção, o que faz com que as empresas busquem modos de produzir mais e melhor. Tal relação é o próprio ciclo de desenvolvimento de um país. Assim, a emersão dessa camada populacional, agora mais sedenta e também detentora de poder econômico, caracteriza&amp;nbsp;o que se chama&amp;nbsp;"nação em desenvolvimento" (claro, é preciso somar ao fator econômico aspectos como saúde, educação, saneamento básico, os quais não devem ficar estagnados, mas aí já é outra história).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nosso país, portanto, vem minimizando, ainda que bastante&amp;nbsp;lentamente, os contrastes sociais através da ampliação da atuação econômica daqueles cuja participação até então era pequena ou mínima, &lt;a href="http://economia.ig.com.br/classe+media+alcanca+metade+da+populacao+de+todo+o+pais/n1237772903610.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #45818e;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;desenvolvendo a nova classe média brasileira.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&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/6543790939483174689-7545713535291461249?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://economia.ig.com.br/classe+media+alcanca+metade+da+populacao+de+todo+o+pais/n1237772903610.html' title='Existe uma nova classe média brasileira?'/><link rel='enclosure' type='text/html' href='http://economia.ig.com.br/classe+media+alcanca+metade+da+populacao+de+todo+o+pais/n1237772903610.html' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7545713535291461249/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/existe-uma-nova-classe-media-brasileira.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7545713535291461249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7545713535291461249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/existe-uma-nova-classe-media-brasileira.html' title='Existe uma nova classe média brasileira?'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8018259550465136348</id><published>2010-11-23T16:41:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T16:49:39.370-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Basidiomicetos.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='queroalgoquenãoenvolvafísica.'/><title type='text'>On Psyche</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;So loitering, so active; so busy, so idle;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which has she most need of, a spur or a bridle?&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Jonathan Swift)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TOwMT0HqH6I/AAAAAAAAAPI/gCwduwKov2g/s1600/jim+davis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="395" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TOwMT0HqH6I/AAAAAAAAAPI/gCwduwKov2g/s400/jim+davis.jpg" width="400" /&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/6543790939483174689-8018259550465136348?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8018259550465136348/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/on-psyche.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8018259550465136348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8018259550465136348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/on-psyche.html' title='On Psyche'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TOwMT0HqH6I/AAAAAAAAAPI/gCwduwKov2g/s72-c/jim+davis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1944941488288892200</id><published>2010-11-23T15:53:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T15:55:32.918-02:00</updated><title type='text'>There came a wind like a bugle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;...The bell within the steeple wild &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The flying tidings whirled.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; How much can come&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; And much can go&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; And yet abide the world!&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Emily Dickinson)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-1944941488288892200?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1944941488288892200/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/there-came-wind-like-bugle_23.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1944941488288892200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1944941488288892200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/there-came-wind-like-bugle_23.html' title='There came a wind like a bugle'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3057796831118125982</id><published>2010-11-22T17:19:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T17:22:55.862-02:00</updated><title type='text'>the coming in colours.</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;A perplexidade do moço diante de certas considerações tão ingênuas, a mesma perplexidade que um dia senti. Depois, com o passar do tempo, a metamorfose na maquinazinha social azeitada pelo hábito de rir sem vontade, de falar sem vontade, de chorar sem vontade, de falar sem vontade, de fazer amor sem vontade... O homem adaptável, ideal. Quanto mais for se apoltronando, mais há de convir aos outros, tão cômodo, tão portátil. Comunicação total, mimetismo: entra numa sala azul, fica azul, numa vermelha vermelho. Um dia se olha no espelho, de que cor eu sou? Tarde demais para sair pela porta afora.&lt;span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;"&gt;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;("Eu era mudo e só"- Antes do Baile Verde&lt;br /&gt;Lygia Fagundes Telles)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-3057796831118125982?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3057796831118125982/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/to-come-in-colours.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3057796831118125982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3057796831118125982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/to-come-in-colours.html' title='the coming in colours.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7329479978369252837</id><published>2010-11-22T16:40:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T20:33:18.799-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="437" height="376" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e8358132dd14788d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De8358132dd14788d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331508042%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D19D742D8B8417AB719C0B0E49B2B4F12F68F4EE8.325CE84BA5EB47916B9F95D41D4EBFE21AF5C28B%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De8358132dd14788d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1uQDTw11qcFEk9nsGkd6jkuQZAk&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="437" height="376" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De8358132dd14788d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331508042%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D19D742D8B8417AB719C0B0E49B2B4F12F68F4EE8.325CE84BA5EB47916B9F95D41D4EBFE21AF5C28B%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De8358132dd14788d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1uQDTw11qcFEk9nsGkd6jkuQZAk&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-7329479978369252837?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e8358132dd14788d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7329479978369252837/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/sweet-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7329479978369252837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7329479978369252837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/sweet-dreams.html' title='Sweet Dreams'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-2451420623265792363</id><published>2010-11-21T18:24:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T16:28:29.460-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='someoneinlove.'/><title type='text'>Almost Persuaded</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Then he came and he sat down at my table&lt;br /&gt;and he put his hand upon mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-2451420623265792363?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/2451420623265792363/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/almost-persuaded.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2451420623265792363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2451420623265792363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/almost-persuaded.html' title='Almost Persuaded'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3599681810554058208</id><published>2010-11-14T19:08:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T19:14:35.702-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TOBQxu2CVaI/AAAAAAAAAO4/9-iR86OByME/s1600/Photo-0004%2B2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 207px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539516356984198562" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TOBQxu2CVaI/AAAAAAAAAO4/9-iR86OByME/s320/Photo-0004%2B2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;you peer inside yourself &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;  you take the things you like&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;  and try to love the things you took&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&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/6543790939483174689-3599681810554058208?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3599681810554058208/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/you-peer-inside-yourself-you-take.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3599681810554058208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3599681810554058208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/you-peer-inside-yourself-you-take.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TOBQxu2CVaI/AAAAAAAAAO4/9-iR86OByME/s72-c/Photo-0004%2B2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5860974133699620894</id><published>2010-11-01T11:42:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T11:51:19.222-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Delicadeza das almas grosseiras"</title><content type='html'>"A bondade do homem não deve ser um ato avulso e transitório, mas um transbordamento constante que não lhe custe nada e do qual esteja inconsciente".&lt;br /&gt;Henry D. Thoreau&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-5860974133699620894?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5860974133699620894/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/delicadeza-das-almas-grosseiras.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5860974133699620894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5860974133699620894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/11/delicadeza-das-almas-grosseiras.html' title='&quot;Delicadeza das almas grosseiras&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-720189932803288810</id><published>2010-10-01T13:10:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T13:13:00.999-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Epigrama Nº 1</title><content type='html'>Pousa sobre esses espetáculos infatigáveis&lt;br /&gt;uma sonora ou silenciosa canção:&lt;br /&gt;flor do espírito, desinteressada e efêmera,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por ela, os homens te conhecerão:&lt;br /&gt;por ela, os tempos versáteis saberão&lt;br /&gt;que o mundo ficou mais belo, ainda que inutilmente,&lt;br /&gt;quando por ele andou teu coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Cecília Meireles&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-720189932803288810?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/720189932803288810/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/10/epigrama-n-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/720189932803288810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/720189932803288810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/10/epigrama-n-1.html' title='Epigrama Nº 1'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-9116235377859275030</id><published>2010-09-01T20:11:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T22:38:02.120-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Kings of Convenience parece a chuva, um abraço.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-9116235377859275030?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/9116235377859275030/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/09/kings-of-convenience-parece-chuva.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/9116235377859275030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/9116235377859275030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/09/kings-of-convenience-parece-chuva.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1365002624004769219</id><published>2010-08-30T19:51:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T20:11:17.480-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='someoneinlove.'/><title type='text'>"My funny valentine</title><content type='html'>you make me smile with my heart."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-1365002624004769219?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1365002624004769219/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-funny-valentine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1365002624004769219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1365002624004769219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-funny-valentine.html' title='&quot;My funny valentine'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4009824524881930155</id><published>2010-08-17T19:28:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T23:17:52.634-02:00</updated><title type='text'>choose.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;- a cliché&lt;br /&gt;- grow up, will you?&lt;br /&gt;- not a second time, at least for a while.&lt;br /&gt;- it's all to do with childishness and jealousy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-4009824524881930155?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4009824524881930155/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/08/da-insatisfacao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4009824524881930155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4009824524881930155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/08/da-insatisfacao.html' title='choose.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8180302478688167146</id><published>2010-07-21T17:10:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T17:21:02.920-03:00</updated><title type='text'>from manchester to manchester or liverpool.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-34ca4b937f1e06b7" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D34ca4b937f1e06b7%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331508042%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D33E28E07F83EE959E8E59D05E633EA4F39D892B2.2A79FC6A361A9175E55E2CD997687575797A96A5%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D34ca4b937f1e06b7%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dm6KSj0uSUThlJ8Pf1-pvDJFjySo&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D34ca4b937f1e06b7%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331508042%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D33E28E07F83EE959E8E59D05E633EA4F39D892B2.2A79FC6A361A9175E55E2CD997687575797A96A5%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D34ca4b937f1e06b7%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dm6KSj0uSUThlJ8Pf1-pvDJFjySo&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-8180302478688167146?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=34ca4b937f1e06b7&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8180302478688167146/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8180302478688167146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8180302478688167146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/07/blog-post.html' title='from manchester to manchester or liverpool.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8798891304515516087</id><published>2010-07-21T17:07:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T17:59:41.224-03:00</updated><title type='text'>the banker never wears a mac in the pouring rain - very strange.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TEdTwMePdQI/AAAAAAAAANA/4snC1OpqemQ/s1600/DSC00027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496453957675873538" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TEdTwMePdQI/AAAAAAAAANA/4snC1OpqemQ/s400/DSC00027.JPG" style="float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 240px;" width="300" /&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/6543790939483174689-8798891304515516087?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8798891304515516087/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/07/banker-never-wears-mac-in-pouring-rain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8798891304515516087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8798891304515516087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/07/banker-never-wears-mac-in-pouring-rain.html' title='the banker never wears a mac in the pouring rain - very strange.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TEdTwMePdQI/AAAAAAAAANA/4snC1OpqemQ/s72-c/DSC00027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Liverpool, UK</georss:featurename><georss:point>53.4107766 -2.9778383000000304</georss:point><georss:box>53.3557881 -3.0712023000000306 53.4657651 -2.88447430000003</georss:box></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3656877113494242825</id><published>2010-07-04T16:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T16:47:12.014-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"The wind is high" in Liverpool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-3656877113494242825?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3656877113494242825/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/07/wind-is-high-in-liverpool.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3656877113494242825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3656877113494242825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/07/wind-is-high-in-liverpool.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1569233837541765991</id><published>2010-06-24T21:47:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T00:59:03.143-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Last man standing"</title><content type='html'>When there aren't people telling me my birds aren't free, there are people telling me that I'm so much free and telling how I gotta be.&lt;br /&gt;I keep remembering songs sung beneath the sun and the ones sung after the blue of sky's gone.&lt;br /&gt;I've taken the blue of the sky for me and I'm blue. After the blue sky's gone I'm blue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-1569233837541765991?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1569233837541765991/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/06/last-man-standing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1569233837541765991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1569233837541765991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/06/last-man-standing.html' title='&quot;Last man standing&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-6072538743696894667</id><published>2010-06-23T20:20:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T20:26:48.334-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"upon us all a little rain must fall"</title><content type='html'>Eu senti a chuva. E eu só não era fria porque ainda podia sentir. A chuva costumava vir para apagar a imagem do sol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-6072538743696894667?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/6072538743696894667/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/06/upon-us-all-little-rain-must-fall.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6072538743696894667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6072538743696894667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/06/upon-us-all-little-rain-must-fall.html' title='&quot;upon us all a little rain must fall&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-9063489130834323303</id><published>2010-05-24T15:39:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:54:26.930-03:00</updated><title type='text'>- Dos brasileirinhos.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;É nato o direito à saúde, alimentação, cultura, educação, lazer, ect e tal de crianças e adolescentes. Entretanto, foi necessária a criação de um estatuto para definir esses direitos e quem deve garanti-los, regulamentando, assim, a formação na infância e adolescência.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O dever de garantir todos os direitos das crianças e adolescentes tem o cerne, primeiramente, no seio familiar. A família brasileira, por sua vez, encontra-se desestruturada e impossibilitada de garantir uma situação favorável á formação de um indivíduo. Assim, muitas vezes, lança a responsabilidade para o Estado, que também não é claramente apto para tal tarefa. Grande parcela dos brasileirinhos estão expostos, diariamente, à mais dura crueldade. Aprendem, desde cedo, a realidade da desigualdade social- os de baixa renda são sempre os mais prejudicados-, da exploração e discriminação.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;De fato, o tratamento que lhes é dado faz a diferença entre um país desenvolvido e um país de terceiro mundo. A criança deve se sentir parte da comunidade em que vive e, quanto é tratada de modo a inseri-la no círculo social, tem muito a contribuir para o desenvolvimento de seu entorno, tornando-se agente de mudança, interferindo na realidade, e não marginalizado. No entanto, cenas de meninos pedindo esmolas, entre tantas outras situações, são vistas com taaanta frequência, que a gente acaba "se acostumando". " A gente se acostuma, mas não devia." E como quem cala, consente, isso resulta numa espécie de negligência.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Para que as crianças desse país possam ter uma vida digna e sonhada, faz-se necessária a fiscalização das leis que estão aí, bem como aplicação de punições não brandas àqueles que não cumprem as mesmas. Além disso, é indispensável a conscientização da sociedade como um todo e o estabelecimento de políticas públicas claras que favoreçam a prática dos direitos e deveres da criança e do adolescente, sobretudo por meio da educação.&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/6543790939483174689-9063489130834323303?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/9063489130834323303/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/dos-brasileirinhos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/9063489130834323303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/9063489130834323303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/dos-brasileirinhos.html' title='- Dos brasileirinhos.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-2158010834189297114</id><published>2010-05-20T19:51:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T19:55:43.113-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Poema tirado de uma notícia de jornal</title><content type='html'>João Gostoso era carregador de feira livre e morava no morro da Babilônia&lt;br /&gt;Num barracão sem número&lt;br /&gt;Uma noite ele chegou no bar Vinte de Novembro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bebeu&lt;br /&gt;Cantou&lt;br /&gt;Dançou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois se atirou na lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas e morreu afogado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Manuel Bandeira)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-2158010834189297114?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/2158010834189297114/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/poema-tirado-de-uma-noticia-de-jornal.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2158010834189297114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2158010834189297114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/poema-tirado-de-uma-noticia-de-jornal.html' title='Poema tirado de uma notícia de jornal'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1972724205289401839</id><published>2010-05-19T18:03:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T18:05:33.861-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Soneto Antigo</title><content type='html'>Responder a perguntas não respondo. &lt;br /&gt;Perguntas impossíveis não pergunto. &lt;br /&gt;Só do que sei de mim aos outros conto:&lt;br /&gt;de mim, atravessada pelo mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toda a minha experiência, o meu estudo,&lt;br /&gt;sou eu mesma que, em solidão paciente,&lt;br /&gt;recolho do que em mim observo e escuto&lt;br /&gt;muda lição, que ninguém mais entende.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que sou vale mais do que o meu canto.&lt;br /&gt;Apenas em linguagem vou dizendo&lt;br /&gt;caminhos invisíveis por onde ando. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo é secreto e de remoto exemplo.&lt;br /&gt;Todos ouvimos, longe, o apelo do Anjo.&lt;br /&gt;E todos somos pura flor de vento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cecília Meireles&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-1972724205289401839?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1972724205289401839/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/soneto-antigo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1972724205289401839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1972724205289401839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/soneto-antigo.html' title='Soneto Antigo'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8375435458043002604</id><published>2010-05-18T18:31:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T18:38:23.366-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Basidiomicetos.'/><title type='text'>How does it feel?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/S_MHvU3XMEI/AAAAAAAAAM4/WAmLzKH8_2E/s1600/COGUMELO..jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472726481821446210" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/S_MHvU3XMEI/AAAAAAAAAM4/WAmLzKH8_2E/s200/COGUMELO..jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/S_MHPabGxjI/AAAAAAAAAMg/qJWnql99EmI/s1600/COGUMELO..jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&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/6543790939483174689-8375435458043002604?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8375435458043002604/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/how-does-it-feel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8375435458043002604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8375435458043002604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/how-does-it-feel.html' title='How does it feel?'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/S_MHvU3XMEI/AAAAAAAAAM4/WAmLzKH8_2E/s72-c/COGUMELO..jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7649208577845302083</id><published>2010-05-13T15:07:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T16:08:42.397-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Eu não quero ser como um espelho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-7649208577845302083?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7649208577845302083/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/eu-nao-quero-ser-um-espelho.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7649208577845302083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7649208577845302083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/eu-nao-quero-ser-um-espelho.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1544981634384306311</id><published>2010-05-12T12:54:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T13:06:43.858-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Upset</title><content type='html'>"Vai, 'Ana!' ser gauche na vida."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-1544981634384306311?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1544981634384306311/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/mais-vasto.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1544981634384306311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1544981634384306311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/mais-vasto.html' title='Upset'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5370669126074186265</id><published>2010-05-09T15:52:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T16:12:01.078-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A escola é cansativa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GM-lY4OufXI&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GM-lY4OufXI&amp;amp;feature=related&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/6543790939483174689-5370669126074186265?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5370669126074186265/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/escola-e-cansativa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5370669126074186265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5370669126074186265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/escola-e-cansativa.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4148080618541397762</id><published>2010-05-02T11:30:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:55:31.661-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pelo 1º de maio.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"O objetivo imediato dos comunistas é o mesmo que aquele de todos os outros partidos proletários: constituição do proletariado em classe, derrubada da dominação burguesa, conquista do poder político pelo proletariado."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_3mqv5q="114" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"O preço médio do assalariado é o mínimo do salário, isto é, a soma dos meios de subsistência necessários para manter a vida do operário como operário. Por conseguinte, aquilo de que o operário se apropria por seu trabalho é apenas suficiente para reproduzir sua vida, reduzida à mais simples expressão. De modo algum pretendemos abolir essa apropriação pessoal dos produtos do trabalho, indispensável para a reprodução da vida do dia seguinte, uma vez que essa apropriação não deixa lucro líquido que confira um poder sobre o trabalho alheio. O que queremos é suprimir o caráter miserável dessa apropriação que faz com que o operário viva unicamente para aumentar o capital e só viva à medida que o exigem os interesses da classe dominante."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marx e Engels&lt;br /&gt;1848&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-4148080618541397762?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4148080618541397762/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/pelo-1-de-maio.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4148080618541397762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4148080618541397762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/05/pelo-1-de-maio.html' title='Pelo 1º de maio.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4962537301889255860</id><published>2010-04-22T20:27:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:57:28.481-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Trote Universitário (resumido)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Existe uma certa banalização em se tratando desse tema, o que resulta em uma cumplicidade passiva por parte da sociedade. Em alguns casos há negligência por parte dos pais dos novatos e em outros, é a universidade que se omite das comemorações de ingresso na instituição. Essas comemorações famosas por aspectos negativos são idiotas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Felizmente, o trote cidadão vem sendo cada vez mais estimulado: veteranos e calouros integram-se a práticas saudáveis divertindo crianças em instituições, pintando muros de escolas, arrecadando alimentos para doações à comunidades carentes, ou até mesmo doando sangue, como fizeram os alunos bixos e veteranos da Medicina da UFRGS e da PUCRS em março.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_g0an47="112" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Enfim, a galera tem que se ligar e perceber que dá pra se divertir sem humilhar nem constranger ninguém, inclusive adotando a cidadania como braço de apoio, gerando um ingresso batata na universidade!&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/6543790939483174689-4962537301889255860?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4962537301889255860/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/04/o-trote-universitario.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4962537301889255860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4962537301889255860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/04/o-trote-universitario.html' title='O Trote Universitário (resumido)'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-829767173708986180</id><published>2010-04-17T12:32:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T16:10:44.509-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ficha Limpa.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.avaaz.org/po/salve_ficha_limpa/97.php?cl_tta_sign=df9355d658fc241591f0418925f1c9b2"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.avaaz.org/po/salve_ficha_limpa/97.php?cl_tta_sign=df9355d658fc241591f0418925f1c9b2"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;www.avaaz.org/po/salve_ficha_limpa/97.php?cl_tta_sign=df9355d658fc241591f0418925f1c9b2&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/6543790939483174689-829767173708986180?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.avaaz.org/po/salve_ficha_limpa/97.php?cl_tta_sign=df9355d658fc241591f0418925f1c9b2' title='Ficha Limpa.'/><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://www.avaaz.org/po/salve_ficha_limpa/97.php?cl_tta_sign=df9355d658fc241591f0418925f1c9b2' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/829767173708986180/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/04/ficha-limpa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/829767173708986180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/829767173708986180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/04/ficha-limpa.html' title='Ficha Limpa.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1985728023818429072</id><published>2010-04-16T20:23:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T20:50:09.436-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu 2009/2010. (em processo de retomada e resposta)</title><content type='html'>"e tudo é tão lindo e tudo será tão lindo enquanto as cores, o elogio, o adjetivo, o brilho, o cintilante estiverem comigo. Que nada é mais importante do que sentir." (pausa) -2009/2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ritmo.Pausas.Retomada do movimento.&lt;br /&gt;(retomada essencialmente elíptica) - 2010.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-1985728023818429072?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1985728023818429072/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/04/eu-20092010.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1985728023818429072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1985728023818429072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/04/eu-20092010.html' title='Eu 2009/2010. (em processo de retomada e resposta)'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4963971719995598635</id><published>2010-04-13T20:55:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T20:56:14.146-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Aquele chá de abu".</title><content type='html'>Parece que foi ontem quando era terça/quarta-feira.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-4963971719995598635?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4963971719995598635/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/04/aquele-cha-de-abu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4963971719995598635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4963971719995598635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/04/aquele-cha-de-abu.html' title='&quot;Aquele chá de abu&quot;.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5939094609332011394</id><published>2010-03-28T20:52:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T20:14:56.127-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>E eu acho de pouca alma "delimitar-se", só pra constar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-5939094609332011394?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5939094609332011394/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/e-eu-acho-de-pouca-alma-se-delimitar-so.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5939094609332011394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5939094609332011394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/e-eu-acho-de-pouca-alma-se-delimitar-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5115536522856606438</id><published>2010-03-28T20:49:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T20:52:22.400-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Feelings</title><content type='html'>are made to be convenient."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-5115536522856606438?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5115536522856606438/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/feelings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5115536522856606438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5115536522856606438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/feelings.html' title='&quot;Feelings'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1280217158204024371</id><published>2010-03-24T17:16:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T14:43:54.968-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>O que é doce geralmente me adoça um pouco também.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-1280217158204024371?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1280217158204024371/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/o-que-e-doce-geralmente-me-faz-ser-um.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1280217158204024371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1280217158204024371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/o-que-e-doce-geralmente-me-faz-ser-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3540069327838825837</id><published>2010-03-22T20:51:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T16:25:46.930-03:00</updated><title type='text'>De mim, às vezes.</title><content type='html'>Quanto maior o envolvimento emocional, maior o comprometimento, e maior a dificuldade de responder às perguntas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-3540069327838825837?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3540069327838825837/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/de-mim-as-vezes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3540069327838825837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3540069327838825837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/de-mim-as-vezes.html' title='De mim, às vezes.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4167775343337172603</id><published>2010-03-12T02:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T23:05:19.696-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"but for me there's a d. and an a.'s voice."</title><content type='html'>"Tudo vale a pena quando a alma não é pequena."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-4167775343337172603?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4167775343337172603/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/but-for-me-theres-d-and-as-voice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4167775343337172603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4167775343337172603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/but-for-me-theres-d-and-as-voice.html' title='&quot;but for me there&apos;s a d. and an a.&apos;s voice.&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-2443572815487626519</id><published>2010-03-07T22:57:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:56:53.808-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Se atrase o quanto quiser.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Se preocupar e estabelecer compromissos internamente com os outros deixa de ser virtude quando a gente esquece de nós mesmos, inclusive quando pensamos que estamos sendo egoístas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_ktdzm3="103" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Comprometimento é problema e solução.&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/6543790939483174689-2443572815487626519?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/2443572815487626519/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/se-atrase-o-quanto-quiser.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2443572815487626519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2443572815487626519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/03/se-atrase-o-quanto-quiser.html' title='Se atrase o quanto quiser.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4379315846443218754</id><published>2010-02-22T16:01:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T23:05:08.348-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Andar é reconhecer."</title><content type='html'>Primeiro Andar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já vou, será&lt;br /&gt;eu quero ver&lt;br /&gt;o mundo eu sei&lt;br /&gt;não é esse lá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;por onde andar&lt;br /&gt;eu começo por onde a estrada vai&lt;br /&gt;e não culpo a cidade, o pai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vou lá, andar&lt;br /&gt;e o que eu vou ver&lt;br /&gt;eu sei lá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não faz disso esse drama essa dor&lt;br /&gt;é que a sorte é preciso tirar pra ter&lt;br /&gt;perigo é eu me esconder em você&lt;br /&gt;e quando eu vou voltar, quem vai saber&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se alguém numa curva me convidar&lt;br /&gt;eu vou lá&lt;br /&gt;que andar é reconhecer&lt;br /&gt;olhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu preciso andar&lt;br /&gt;um caminho só&lt;br /&gt;vou buscar alguém&lt;br /&gt;que eu nem sei quem sou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu escrevo e te conto o que eu vi&lt;br /&gt;e me mostro de lá pra você&lt;br /&gt;guarde um sonho bom pra mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu preciso andar&lt;br /&gt;um caminho só&lt;br /&gt;vou buscar alguém&lt;br /&gt;que eu nem sei quem sou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rodrigo Amarante- LH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-4379315846443218754?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4379315846443218754/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/02/andar-e-reconhecer.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4379315846443218754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4379315846443218754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/02/andar-e-reconhecer.html' title='&quot;Andar é reconhecer.&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-812158235254494089</id><published>2010-02-22T12:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T19:33:07.577-03:00</updated><title type='text'>All my loving.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/S4MFhcwgK4I/AAAAAAAAAKI/QyPcPcEK6j8/s1600-h/openphotonet_jellybeans3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/S4MFhcwgK4I/AAAAAAAAAKI/QyPcPcEK6j8/s320/openphotonet_jellybeans3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441198847007140738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A parte mais importante e doce das nossas conversas é o que a gente não diz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-812158235254494089?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/812158235254494089/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/02/all-my-loving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/812158235254494089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/812158235254494089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/02/all-my-loving.html' title='All my loving.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/S4MFhcwgK4I/AAAAAAAAAKI/QyPcPcEK6j8/s72-c/openphotonet_jellybeans3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-6630332282365847557</id><published>2010-02-01T21:48:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T14:58:32.373-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"— Como é teu nome, meninazinha de olhos verdes? "</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/S2i_iL4kKcI/AAAAAAAAAJw/EGIdpRiPerU/s1600-h/wizard-of-oz-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433803544449001922" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/S2i_iL4kKcI/AAAAAAAAAJw/EGIdpRiPerU/s200/wizard-of-oz-2.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 143px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_ucyfs8="113" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Às vezes, por mais que fatores digam que não é o Magical Mistery Tour, é preciso abrir totalmente a janela e tentar percebê-lo vindo, já que "tudo é questão de despertar a sua alma". Além do mais, se fecharmos todas as janelas, os pesadelos(que impedem de reconhecer o real) continuam entrando por frestas, mas se deixarmos as janelas abertas, os pesadelos acham caminho de saída. Aí quando as cortinas se abrirem e as nuvens encobrirem efemeramente o sol, cairá uma feliz chuvinha.&lt;/div&gt;"(É preciso dizer-lhes tudo de novo!)"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-6630332282365847557?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/6630332282365847557/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/02/como-e-teu-nome-meninazinha-de-olhos.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6630332282365847557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6630332282365847557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/02/como-e-teu-nome-meninazinha-de-olhos.html' title='&quot;— Como é teu nome, meninazinha de olhos verdes? &quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/S2i_iL4kKcI/AAAAAAAAAJw/EGIdpRiPerU/s72-c/wizard-of-oz-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1438334702837384693</id><published>2010-01-02T19:39:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T00:34:24.846-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Day Sunshine!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/Sz_CGTeRumI/AAAAAAAAAJo/FEDkctBWCMA/s1600-h/27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 171px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/Sz_CGTeRumI/AAAAAAAAAJo/FEDkctBWCMA/s200/27.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422265889939634786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2010.&lt;br /&gt;"E como será? O vento vai dizer lento o que virá, e se chover demais, a gente vai saber, claro de um trovão, se alguém sorrir em paz."&lt;br /&gt;Que todas as palavras de amor e esperança balbuciadas se materializem nesse ano que chegou e que algumas coisas mudem; que com a ladainha do Natal as crianças não se esqueçam que a data não se resume à Papai Noel, chocolate e presentes. Toda essa época - que chega a ser sentimental demais às vezes pra alguns -  é pra lembrar do que deve ser lembrado sempre: "Tudo o que você precisa é amor."&lt;br /&gt;Paz, amor e sonhos de um mundo melhor everybody everywhere!&lt;br /&gt;(:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-1438334702837384693?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1438334702837384693/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/01/good-day-sunshine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1438334702837384693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1438334702837384693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2010/01/good-day-sunshine.html' title='Good Day Sunshine!'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/Sz_CGTeRumI/AAAAAAAAAJo/FEDkctBWCMA/s72-c/27.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-1823367336123104720</id><published>2009-12-20T19:55:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T19:56:12.643-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Férias.</title><content type='html'>Estar à disposição de si.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-1823367336123104720?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/1823367336123104720/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/12/ferias.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1823367336123104720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/1823367336123104720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/12/ferias.html' title='Férias.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4730363405875078676</id><published>2009-12-13T23:25:00.005-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T23:37:10.220-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"...that cold blow."</title><content type='html'>Às vezes, quando é difícil encontrar a graciosidade em algo, eu não consigo ver nitidamente as estrelas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-4730363405875078676?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4730363405875078676/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/12/that-cold-blow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4730363405875078676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4730363405875078676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/12/that-cold-blow.html' title='&quot;...that cold blow.&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5730042036887385488</id><published>2009-12-07T11:19:00.005-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T11:56:39.921-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Isso sim, talvez, não se explica, Quincas.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/Sx0JbgtjrmI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/zNC8-EGIH0w/s1600-h/amor-perfeito.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 178px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/Sx0JbgtjrmI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/zNC8-EGIH0w/s200/amor-perfeito.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412492695411338850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A única verdade absoluta-ou não- é sobre as formas puras que o amor pode levar a todos os lugares.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-5730042036887385488?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5730042036887385488/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/12/isso-sim-talvez-nao-se-explique-quincas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5730042036887385488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5730042036887385488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/12/isso-sim-talvez-nao-se-explique-quincas.html' title='Isso sim, talvez, não se explica, Quincas.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/Sx0JbgtjrmI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/zNC8-EGIH0w/s72-c/amor-perfeito.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3598748497492609810</id><published>2009-11-21T17:59:00.005-02:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T16:29:15.704-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"..pray to be, shake this land..."</title><content type='html'>Eu odeio estar presa a tantas imagens e a mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-3598748497492609810?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3598748497492609810/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/pray-to-be-shake-this-land.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3598748497492609810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3598748497492609810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/pray-to-be-shake-this-land.html' title='&quot;..pray to be, shake this land...&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3783516044011716689</id><published>2009-11-21T14:42:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T20:42:33.179-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"...eu preciso aprender a ser só, eu preciso aprender a só ser."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-3783516044011716689?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3783516044011716689/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3783516044011716689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3783516044011716689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-5253217796414560542</id><published>2009-11-12T14:09:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T22:40:10.691-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm just a boy whose intentions are good..</title><content type='html'>O que vale é o que se demonstra. &lt;br /&gt;No nosso mundo a intenção não é o que vale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.. Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-5253217796414560542?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/5253217796414560542/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-just-boy-whose-intentions-are-good.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5253217796414560542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/5253217796414560542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-just-boy-whose-intentions-are-good.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m just a boy whose intentions are good..'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-3119009621293946501</id><published>2009-11-10T21:07:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T21:08:48.682-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Será que é o exagero de consciência essa necessidade de sentir a raiz firme, que deixa as pessoas mal humoradas?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-3119009621293946501?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/3119009621293946501/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/sera-que-e-o-exagero-de-consciencia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3119009621293946501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/3119009621293946501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/sera-que-e-o-exagero-de-consciencia.html' title=''/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-7501209837980347851</id><published>2009-11-09T21:03:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T20:11:32.952-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"isn't nowhere man a bit like me and you?"</title><content type='html'>Às vezes é como se todo mundo e o mundo todo andasse e eu continuasse parada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-7501209837980347851?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/7501209837980347851/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/and-there-is-no-plave-im-going-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7501209837980347851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/7501209837980347851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/and-there-is-no-plave-im-going-to.html' title='&quot;isn&apos;t nowhere man a bit like me and you?&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4961925931100758013</id><published>2009-11-09T20:56:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T20:11:08.601-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Soneto V</title><content type='html'>ser social demais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soneto V&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu nada entendo da questão social. &lt;br /&gt;Eu faço parte dela, simplesmente... &lt;br /&gt;E sei apenas do meu próprio mal, &lt;br /&gt;Que não é bem o mal de toda a gente, &lt;br /&gt;Nem é deste Planeta... Por sinal&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;E enquanto o mundo em torno se esbarronda, &lt;br /&gt;Vivo regendo estranhas contradanças&lt;br /&gt;No meu vago País de Trebizonda... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entre os Loucos, os Mortos e as crianças, &lt;br /&gt;É lá que eu canto, numa eterna ronda, &lt;br /&gt;Nossos comuns desejos e esperanças!...&lt;br /&gt;( Mário Quintana, 1976)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-4961925931100758013?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4961925931100758013/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/soneto-v.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4961925931100758013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4961925931100758013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/11/soneto-v.html' title='Soneto V'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-2536992114826468574</id><published>2009-10-30T15:33:00.006-02:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T15:00:03.763-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Canção iluminada de sol.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/SusmAuiyhkI/AAAAAAAAAJI/pGOFh8LwOog/s1600-h/421B8E_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398450372269475394" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/SusmAuiyhkI/AAAAAAAAAJI/pGOFh8LwOog/s200/421B8E_1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 180px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Nove em cada dez pessoas se sentem preocupadas com algum aspecto do mundo e da sociedade. O que faz com que essas pessoas sejam mais ou menos felizes é o modo como lidam com isso. As menos felizes remoem os problemas que vêem, enquanto as mais felizes concentram-se nas possibilidades de melhoras futuras." Diz David Niven em Os 100 Segredos das Pessoas Felizes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div closure_uid_pqhfb8="112" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A esperança é o que move o mundo e o que possibilita aos homens seguirem em frente, passar por obstáculos, construir, fazer de si ponto de sonho e expectativa na busca de um mundo melhor.&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/6543790939483174689-2536992114826468574?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/2536992114826468574/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/10/cancao-iluminada-de-sol.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2536992114826468574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2536992114826468574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/10/cancao-iluminada-de-sol.html' title='Canção iluminada de sol.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/SusmAuiyhkI/AAAAAAAAAJI/pGOFh8LwOog/s72-c/421B8E_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-6447304990209171800</id><published>2009-10-23T13:52:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T22:30:49.659-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sucataman!</title><content type='html'>"VOCÊ NÃO SABE MAIS ONDE COLOCAR TANTOS APARELHOS ELETRÔNICOS APARENTEMENTE INÚTEIS OU ESTRAGADOS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     POIS SEUS PROBLEMAS ACABARAM!"&lt;br /&gt;     Clique no título dessa postagem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.miniportal.weebly.com/sucataman.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-6447304990209171800?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.miniportal.weebly.com/sucataman.html' title='Sucataman!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/6447304990209171800/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/10/sucataman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6447304990209171800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6447304990209171800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/10/sucataman.html' title='Sucataman!'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-9068137743631781232</id><published>2009-10-08T13:59:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T11:08:55.085-03:00</updated><title type='text'>éé Batista..</title><content type='html'>Maldita pressão social.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" e isso a desgasta."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-9068137743631781232?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/9068137743631781232/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/10/ee-batista.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/9068137743631781232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/9068137743631781232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/10/ee-batista.html' title='éé Batista..'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-954028007996675688</id><published>2009-10-06T21:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T22:00:39.585-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Evaporar</title><content type='html'>Tempo a gente tem&lt;br /&gt;Quanto a gente dá&lt;br /&gt;Corre o que correr&lt;br /&gt;Custa o que custar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tempo a gente dá&lt;br /&gt;Quanto a gente tem&lt;br /&gt;Custa o que correr&lt;br /&gt;Corre o que custar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo que eu perdi&lt;br /&gt;Só agora eu sei&lt;br /&gt;Aprender a dar foi o que ganhei&lt;br /&gt;E ando ainda atrás desse tempo ter&lt;br /&gt;Pude não correr pra ele me encontrar&lt;br /&gt;Não se mexer&lt;br /&gt;Beija-flor no ar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O rio fica lá, a água é que correu&lt;br /&gt;Chega na maré, ele vira mar&lt;br /&gt;Como se morrer fosse desaguar&lt;br /&gt;Derramar no céu, seu purificar&lt;br /&gt;Deixar pra trás sais e minerais&lt;br /&gt;Evaporar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rodrigo Amarante&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-954028007996675688?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/954028007996675688/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/10/evaporar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/954028007996675688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/954028007996675688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/10/evaporar.html' title='Evaporar'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-4107282007857673587</id><published>2009-09-23T18:57:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T16:47:54.436-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Vida.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left" dir="ltr" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Cerca de 1% de todas as pessoas que morrem são doadoras de órgãos(em vida ou não)em potencial. É uma porcentagem relativamente pequena. Contudo, qualquer ajuda, por menor que seja, é bem-vinda e fundamental,uma vez que há inúmeras pessoas na fila de espera por um órgão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;A chance dessas pessoas de encontrar um doador é três ou quatro em cem mil. A lista de candidatos, renovada a cada ano, a um novo órgão como rins e parte do fígado( esses podem ser doados em vida)é organizada por critérios como urgência do caso e tempo de espera. A família do doador não escolhe o receptor a não ser que a doação seja em vida ou de órgãos duplos. O doador é escolhido pela Central de acordo com a compatibilidade sanguínea, histocompatibilidade e peso e tamanho do órgão. O único risco que se corria era a rejeição do órgão transplantado e infecção. Mas hoje, os medicamentos imunossupressores já superaram essa barreira.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Infortunamente, a doação de órgãos é cercada de mitos, como o de que os órgãos são vendidos- o que não acontece, pois as centrais de transplante controlam o destino de todos os órgãos doados e retirados- ou que sua morte não seja confirmada e mesmo assim seus órgãos sejam retirados, o que é mais uma contradição, pois é necessário confirmação da morte encefálica para se dar o transplante por pelo menos dois médicos, um deles neurologista.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify" closure_uid_t34n25="113"&gt;Nesse contexto, faz-se necessária a conscientização de todos quanto à doação de órgãos desde cedo, bem como a desmistificação acerca do tema e que a população tenha acesso à informação, para que possa driblar a burocracia e a ajudar a salvar vidas.&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/6543790939483174689-4107282007857673587?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/4107282007857673587/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/09/vida.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4107282007857673587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/4107282007857673587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/09/vida.html' title='Vida.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-8997650808716264600</id><published>2009-09-21T16:00:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T14:27:24.746-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Dia da Árvore.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/SrfPZo6groI/AAAAAAAAAI4/dfppZ5hCXbw/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383999918931226242" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/SrfPZo6groI/AAAAAAAAAI4/dfppZ5hCXbw/s400/untitled.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 300px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flor da árvore Pau-brasil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma única árvore é capaz de absorver no mínimo 1 tonelada de CO2 ao longo de sua vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clique no título e leia uma matéria que fala das árvores do Brasil que estão em extinção.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-8997650808716264600?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://revistaescola.abril.com.br/ciencias/fundamentos/quais-arvores-brasileiras-estao-extincao-dia-da-arvore-499607.shtml' title='Dia da Árvore.'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/8997650808716264600/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/09/dia-da-arvore.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8997650808716264600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/8997650808716264600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/09/dia-da-arvore.html' title='Dia da Árvore.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/SrfPZo6groI/AAAAAAAAAI4/dfppZ5hCXbw/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-6429057853437128531</id><published>2009-09-18T22:08:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T14:32:20.521-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Você vai querer cantar"</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b8a68399026eead4" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db8a68399026eead4%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331508042%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D43799CB6E28A14E2A3A6440B5977E263FAA5DFCA.25D6148E176A892AA17C21166BCDCF02206D5CBA%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db8a68399026eead4%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DXCN6byZaWfr_SrGi9rA8GjYVm5I&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db8a68399026eead4%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331508042%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D43799CB6E28A14E2A3A6440B5977E263FAA5DFCA.25D6148E176A892AA17C21166BCDCF02206D5CBA%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db8a68399026eead4%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DXCN6byZaWfr_SrGi9rA8GjYVm5I&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com açúcar, com afeto - Chico Buarque.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-6429057853437128531?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=b8a68399026eead4&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/6429057853437128531/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/09/voce-vai-querer-cantar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6429057853437128531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/6429057853437128531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/09/voce-vai-querer-cantar.html' title='&quot;Você vai querer cantar&quot;'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6543790939483174689.post-2878159247762740609</id><published>2009-09-17T18:11:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T18:43:38.817-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pra cuidar do mundo.</title><content type='html'>Pra você que, da mesma forma que eu, tem dificuldade em tomar banhos rápidos:&lt;br /&gt;deixe para banhar-se antes de sair de casa, assim você terá que se apressar e o banho será curto. Mas não precisa se atrasar para os compromissos. haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6543790939483174689-2878159247762740609?l=memoriaana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/feeds/2878159247762740609/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/09/pra-cuidar-do-mundo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2878159247762740609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6543790939483174689/posts/default/2878159247762740609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://memoriaana.blogspot.com/2009/09/pra-cuidar-do-mundo.html' title='Pra cuidar do mundo.'/><author><name>Ana Paula S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09589277348721350446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7rX9AX0Y9aE/TRgRBAHlJSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/2aGbOu4S_5A/S220/DSC01002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
