<?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-6122533705076547773</id><updated>2012-02-16T12:07:18.418-03:00</updated><category term='&quot;Contos&quot;'/><category term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><category term='Pensamentos soltos'/><category term='Dos outros (frases e poesias)'/><category term='Desabafo'/><title type='text'>PROLIXIDADES e laconismos</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-2391836795387169194</id><published>2012-02-11T19:12:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2012-02-14T18:17:05.004-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Amigo é coisa pra se guardar.."</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I chocked back tears today because i can't begin to say&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;how much u've shaped this boy these last 10 years or more.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;My friends, we've been see it all: triumphs to druken falls.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And our bones are broken still but our hearts are joined until.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Time slips its tired hand into our tired hands&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;We've years 'til that day and so much more to say.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You give strenght to me, strenght i never had&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I was a mess, u see; i'd lost the plot so bad.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You dragged me up and out, out of that darkest place.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;There's not a single doubt when i can see ur faces.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;My friends, we've been see it all when it made no sense at all.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;You dare to light my path and found the beauty in the aftermath.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Let me hold u up like u held me up.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;It's too long to never say this.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;You must know i've always thought.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;You give strenght to me, strenght i never had&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I was a mess, u see; i'd lost the plot so bad.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;You dragged me up and out, out of that darkest place.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;There's not a single doubt when i can see ur faces.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaVFWqpe61Q&amp;amp;feature=BFa&amp;amp;list=FLlT04yGrImyAAvZWqM9AnZQ&amp;amp;lf=plpp_video"&gt;Give me strenght, Snow Patrol&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--IdrP33h-8c/TzcHBNxQw1I/AAAAAAAAAXk/GkFmPqPmSaE/s320/OgAAAIFVfA_JMQi_tfR6X--8ORrxUmf9WrjBd5O5RX2zMQiv9ihWDb8dDnNKKG91aNj27ywK0cftiw0K-SGeqnHxmzMAm1T1UI9Pd8KvQ-j_yucPmbYiOCJ5DIhI.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708038770172937042" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px; " /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Pensei em mil formas pra [des]escrever tudo o que eu tenho sentido em relação às minhas amizades nos últimos dias, mas não achei palavras melhores do que as que estão nesta música.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ela fala tudo e mais um pouco.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S: nem todos estão na foto, mas todos estão no coração. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-2391836795387169194?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/2391836795387169194/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/02/amigo-e-coisa-pra-se-guardar.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2391836795387169194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2391836795387169194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/02/amigo-e-coisa-pra-se-guardar.html' title='&quot;Amigo é coisa pra se guardar..&quot;'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--IdrP33h-8c/TzcHBNxQw1I/AAAAAAAAAXk/GkFmPqPmSaE/s72-c/OgAAAIFVfA_JMQi_tfR6X--8ORrxUmf9WrjBd5O5RX2zMQiv9ihWDb8dDnNKKG91aNj27ywK0cftiw0K-SGeqnHxmzMAm1T1UI9Pd8KvQ-j_yucPmbYiOCJ5DIhI.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4898162351759992605</id><published>2012-01-31T23:10:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:37:33.581-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Quando estamos prestes a perder alguma coisa que nos é essencial, Deus nos manda outra antes.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não para substituir, mas para ajudar a superar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-4898162351759992605?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4898162351759992605/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/quando-estamos-prestes-perder-alguma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4898162351759992605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4898162351759992605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/quando-estamos-prestes-perder-alguma.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-3449097825845663513</id><published>2012-01-31T23:03:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:37:33.581-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KnSiVnm34YA/TyifHOdJgEI/AAAAAAAAAXY/UlwExYufWyU/s1600/4f808fe615073b5859af36c8543d8a13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KnSiVnm34YA/TyifHOdJgEI/AAAAAAAAAXY/UlwExYufWyU/s400/4f808fe615073b5859af36c8543d8a13.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703983874552987714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt; - Quando se trilha o caminho do amor, o fim é sempre imprevisível.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-3449097825845663513?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/3449097825845663513/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/quando-se-trilha-o-caminho-do-amor-o.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/3449097825845663513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/3449097825845663513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/quando-se-trilha-o-caminho-do-amor-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KnSiVnm34YA/TyifHOdJgEI/AAAAAAAAAXY/UlwExYufWyU/s72-c/4f808fe615073b5859af36c8543d8a13.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4453394176076409456</id><published>2012-01-31T22:57:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:55:22.217-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'>Espera</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E chega um ponto em que de repente tudo pára.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E depois de ter lutado tanto, a gente cansa de tentar novamente.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;É quando a gente vê que já fez tudo o que poderia fazer...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;e nada mais depende da gente.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Aí só nos resta esperar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E nessa espera o coração vai tentando bater em meio às incertezas,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;vai pulsando apesar da dor e rindo pra esconder as lágrimas.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-4453394176076409456?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4453394176076409456/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/espera.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4453394176076409456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4453394176076409456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/espera.html' title='Espera'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-3259541525574500852</id><published>2012-01-31T13:57:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:33:38.831-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>Pobre criatura</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pobre criatura...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Viajas pelos livros, buscas sabedoria, conheces tanto de todas as ciências e tão pouco sobre a vida.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vives a exibir tua inteligência; uma enciclopédia viva cheia de teorias. (Nada sabes na prática.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;És tão culta e tens sempre sábios conselhos pra quem te procura. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pareces estar bem protegida por trás desta tão bela armadura.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas conheço-te bem.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Por trás disto tudo só te resta o medo. Sabes que os livros não te ensinaram (nem ensinarão) as coisas que tu realmente precisavas saber.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;És como uma presa fugindo do caçador; esgueirando-se por trás de troncos de mentiras e enganando-o com pistas falsas pelo caminho.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pobre criatura...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Até quando te esconderás? Até quando estarás presa por palavras que nada falam por ti?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não sabes ainda que as maiores lições não estão nos livros?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não sabes que as melhores histórias não são as de seus heróis?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Que enquanto não te livrares das teorias nunca aprenderás a prática?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Saia desta sala, tira os teus óculos, despida-se dessas letras.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Só assim verás que tudo o que você pensa saber não é nada perto de toda a verdade que a vida vai te fazer conhecer.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-3259541525574500852?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/3259541525574500852/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/pobre-criatura.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/3259541525574500852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/3259541525574500852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/pobre-criatura.html' title='Pobre criatura'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-8896100025083982138</id><published>2012-01-25T10:18:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:33:38.831-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>É-terno</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tg9io_1pWK0/TyAEVPsh_fI/AAAAAAAAAW0/AuoHzqpCHfc/s1600/Two_Hands_by_chibifloom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tg9io_1pWK0/TyAEVPsh_fI/AAAAAAAAAW0/AuoHzqpCHfc/s320/Two_Hands_by_chibifloom.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701561891288120818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Você me pegou nos braços, cuidou de mim, torceu por mim.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E mesmo sem saber ao certo quem você era, havia uma alegria enorme no meu sorriso ao te ver e te chamar de "tia".&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Você foi o motivo de muitas das minhas lágrimas, mas, com certeza, de incontáveis sorrisos também.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;É indescritível o brilho que eu via nos seus olhos; a ternura que emanava do seu coração.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dava-me a certeza de que tudo, por pior que fosse, se resolveria.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E me dói te ver hoje tão longe de tudo o que te fazia bem.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas eu sei que você está seguro. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Você está nas mãos de Quem nunca vai te deixar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E eu sempre estarei aqui por você...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;porque você sempre esteve aí por mim.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;*&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Não vai agora, tio, peço por favor. Por que essa pressa? Com sono não estou. Fique comigo senão eu vou chorar." ♫&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para Neemias Júnior&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-8896100025083982138?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/8896100025083982138/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/e-terno.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/8896100025083982138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/8896100025083982138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/e-terno.html' title='É-terno'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tg9io_1pWK0/TyAEVPsh_fI/AAAAAAAAAW0/AuoHzqpCHfc/s72-c/Two_Hands_by_chibifloom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-2836788750855496661</id><published>2012-01-10T22:30:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:34:35.803-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MngXqLwIVhk/Tw5eksWhZNI/AAAAAAAAAVo/afVwb-hsI6o/s1600/DSC03694.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MngXqLwIVhk/Tw5eksWhZNI/AAAAAAAAAVo/afVwb-hsI6o/s320/DSC03694.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696594563144180946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sinto falta da minha solidão. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dos dias frios em que me esquentava ao som do velho violão.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Costumava não precisar de muito... &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;ter a mim já me bastava e com isso tinha tudo.&lt;/i&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/6122533705076547773-2836788750855496661?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/2836788750855496661/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/sinto-falta-da-minha-solidao.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2836788750855496661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2836788750855496661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2012/01/sinto-falta-da-minha-solidao.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MngXqLwIVhk/Tw5eksWhZNI/AAAAAAAAAVo/afVwb-hsI6o/s72-c/DSC03694.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-5972846670941756271</id><published>2011-12-31T08:53:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T09:22:38.773-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Águas de 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UQLOt9VwrRA/Tv79r-Wlr2I/AAAAAAAAAT8/vUkPpZz9TIU/s1600/The_Sea_by_Jean_Genie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UQLOt9VwrRA/Tv79r-Wlr2I/AAAAAAAAAT8/vUkPpZz9TIU/s320/The_Sea_by_Jean_Genie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692265910956830562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;- No meio da cruel tempestade que tem sido meus anos,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UQLOt9VwrRA/Tv79r-Wlr2I/AAAAAAAAAT8/vUkPpZz9TIU/s1600/The_Sea_by_Jean_Genie.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt; os últimos trezentos e sessenta e cinco dias foram de chuvas fortes e  algumas tardes nubladas.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;- As águas dos mares amargos por onde naveguei lavaram todo o meu barco. Levaram todo o pouco que me tinha sobrado. Em alguns raros momentos, trouxe-me coisas boas também; mas essas mesmas águas agora querem levar de volta o pouco alívio que trouxeram.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;- E depois de tanto tempo sendo jogada de um lado pro outro, não tenho força pra segurar sozinha minha bagagem mais valiosa. Apenas sei que, se ape&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;sar das novas adversidades, ela continuar inteira e comigo, nada mais a levará embora.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Por isso, mesmo sem nenhuma, apego-me à esperança de que essa chuva passe; afinal, quanto tempo dura uma tempestade? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;- A mim, agora, só me resta sobreviver. Só me resta continuar crendo na existência do sol que há muito não vejo; porque é essa fé que ainda tem me acordado pelas manhãs.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Pra mim, nesse novo ano que se inicia, desejo mais chuviscos nos meus dias, céu nublado e, quem sabe, um pouco de sol.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Pra você, desejo que o sol apareça ou continue aparecendo no seu mar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E se você, assim como eu, não o vê agora, desejo fé para crer que ele existe e que um dia, algum dia, ele vai aparecer novamente.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A todos, um 2012 de SOL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9f-J0oDZis0/Tv7-SKr7NsI/AAAAAAAAAUI/7WDQCoDxxTM/s1600/Sunrise_by_lorkata.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9f-J0oDZis0/Tv7-SKr7NsI/AAAAAAAAAUI/7WDQCoDxxTM/s320/Sunrise_by_lorkata.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692266567102576322" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-5972846670941756271?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/5972846670941756271/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2011/12/aguas-de-2011.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5972846670941756271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5972846670941756271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2011/12/aguas-de-2011.html' title='Águas de 2011'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UQLOt9VwrRA/Tv79r-Wlr2I/AAAAAAAAAT8/vUkPpZz9TIU/s72-c/The_Sea_by_Jean_Genie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4628677712555264387</id><published>2011-09-18T21:09:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:34:35.803-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>Vamos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-drluleEmxqM/Tnaae3RkH4I/AAAAAAAAASA/ggkIH2DqLpI/s1600/Crazy_by_vetsaur.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-drluleEmxqM/Tnaae3RkH4I/AAAAAAAAASA/ggkIH2DqLpI/s320/Crazy_by_vetsaur.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653876237234610050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Vamos azular nossos cabelos, pôr um violão nas costas, uma tatuagem no braço &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;e ver até onde vamos com uns poucos trocados.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Vamos pegar a estrada pra Deus sabe onde e espalhar a alegria pelo ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vamos fazer da noite o nosso dia e amanhecer dentro de um bar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Vamos viver dos nossos sonhos, esquecer a faculdade, a família e as responsabilidades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vamos beber vodka com cerveja e coca, cair em qualquer esquina e mergulhar nas nossas insanidades.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vamos cantar a vida, os amores e os dissabores.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vamos dançar loucamente e transformar a tristeza em alegres cores.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vamos continuar sonhando, nossos segredos confidenciando e os homens amando.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-align: left; "&gt;Porque nem tudo o que é "certo" é o que vai fazer a gente feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/6122533705076547773-4628677712555264387?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4628677712555264387/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2011/09/vamos.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4628677712555264387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4628677712555264387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2011/09/vamos.html' title='Vamos'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-drluleEmxqM/Tnaae3RkH4I/AAAAAAAAASA/ggkIH2DqLpI/s72-c/Crazy_by_vetsaur.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4427754037894916069</id><published>2011-09-17T11:53:00.010-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:33:47.088-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>É mais...muito mais</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9QmuBRf5aAU/TnS_1YN11TI/AAAAAAAAARY/QOeTzDeLA-U/s1600/7160f34b8b068aecadb23116205b529b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9QmuBRf5aAU/TnS_1YN11TI/AAAAAAAAARY/QOeTzDeLA-U/s320/7160f34b8b068aecadb23116205b529b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653354356011291954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;É mais que amor, mais que carinho... muito mais que paixão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Esse sentimento que me arrebata, me faz flutuar... me tira a razão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;É mais que do que as palavras podem explicar... é mais do que cabe no coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;É o sonho de todas as noites, o riso de todos os dias... a brisa fria das tardes de verão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;É o mais lindo luar, o mais perfeito pôr-de-sol... é a mais harmoniosa canção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;É a presença que enche minha alma com a mais doce emoção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;* &lt;/b&gt;Para Gabriel Rodrigues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-4427754037894916069?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4427754037894916069/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2011/09/muito-mais.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4427754037894916069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4427754037894916069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2011/09/muito-mais.html' title='É mais...muito mais'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9QmuBRf5aAU/TnS_1YN11TI/AAAAAAAAARY/QOeTzDeLA-U/s72-c/7160f34b8b068aecadb23116205b529b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-5356999096019166035</id><published>2011-09-17T11:02:00.013-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:36:00.605-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>Só</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mnAmKxl6RsE/TnSrPSU1anI/AAAAAAAAARQ/Ko1f9mSxr3w/s1600/Alone_by_Eredel.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mnAmKxl6RsE/TnSrPSU1anI/AAAAAAAAARQ/Ko1f9mSxr3w/s320/Alone_by_Eredel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653331711362427506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cresci só.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Amigos sempre apareciam,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas logo todos partiam.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sofri só.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Alguns consolavam,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas pra seus sofrimentos logo voltavam.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Morri só.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Alguns meu corpo velaram,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas as lágrimas logo enxugaram.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;E agora no pó,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;De minha vida não tenho dó&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Porque, apesar de tudo, eu vivi&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;...e só.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;*&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/i&gt;Desenterrando o blog. [Tentando, pelo menos...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;:*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-5356999096019166035?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/5356999096019166035/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2011/09/cresci-so_17.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5356999096019166035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5356999096019166035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2011/09/cresci-so_17.html' title='Só'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mnAmKxl6RsE/TnSrPSU1anI/AAAAAAAAARQ/Ko1f9mSxr3w/s72-c/Alone_by_Eredel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-3843307849972099433</id><published>2011-01-11T00:13:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:37:14.148-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Eu só queria andar por aí&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sem saber aonde ir&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;...Fugir.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ter onde me esconder&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Em algum caminho me perder&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;...Correr.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Poder, enfim, me libertar&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E sozinha em algum lugar&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;...Voar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-3843307849972099433?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/3843307849972099433/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2011/01/eu-so-queria-andar-por-ai-sem-saber.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/3843307849972099433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/3843307849972099433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2011/01/eu-so-queria-andar-por-ai-sem-saber.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4675159308542659118</id><published>2010-09-02T11:35:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T11:36:53.163-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Eu sou o extremo das coisas.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não vivo mais em tons de cinza&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Meu arco-íris é preto e branco. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&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/6122533705076547773-4675159308542659118?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4675159308542659118/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/09/eu-sou-o-extremo-das-coisas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4675159308542659118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4675159308542659118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/09/eu-sou-o-extremo-das-coisas.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-1993638658550922648</id><published>2010-08-24T01:02:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:37:14.149-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>Um beijo, um adeus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;A ti, dou o meu melhor sorriso com meu pior veneno&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Composto de ódio e mágoas&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Fabricado nas ruínas de uma  alma.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;E venho a ti na forma do demônio que você criou&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Despido de todo bom sentimento...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não conhece pena ou arrependimento.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Inebriando-te com o doce perfume de minha pele amarga&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Atraio-te à solidão de minha cama&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;E com meus lábios molhados colados nos teus&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me delicio com o gosto suave do seu eterno adeus.&lt;/i&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/6122533705076547773-1993638658550922648?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/1993638658550922648/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/08/um-beijo-um-adeus.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/1993638658550922648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/1993638658550922648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/08/um-beijo-um-adeus.html' title='Um beijo, um adeus'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-848389613203784583</id><published>2010-08-10T17:50:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:37:33.582-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;Contos&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TGHGSQ1RwtI/AAAAAAAAAQI/tinoWmurCmE/s1600/rain_window_by_pompuspb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TGHGSQ1RwtI/AAAAAAAAAQI/tinoWmurCmE/s320/rain_window_by_pompuspb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503898236681831122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sentia-se cansado...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Olhava através da janela&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;que emoldurava a chuva fina que caía&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;molhando a grama e trazendo-lhe aos ouvidos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;o doce sussurro do vento.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Esse quadro, onde já houve folhas caindo,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;borboletas coloridas beijando flores &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;e o amarelo do sol que queimava o chão,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;agora representa sua estação favorita.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Com os olhos fechados,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;ele inspirava forte e lentamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Queria sentir no corpo tudo o que o &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;iminente inverno podia trazê-lo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Imóvel...não produzia nem um som.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Ainda assim estava inquieto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Aquele clima tão esperado não lhe deu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;a paz de sempre...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Sentia-se vazio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Sabia que agora nada mais o ajudaria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Era obrigado a fazer o que vinha adiado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;por um ano..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Sem pensar em nada, levantou-se &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;e olhou para  seu relógio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Era a hora de seguir em frente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;*&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;Finalmente cumpri a promessa feita a mim mesma de escrever algo antes das aulas começarem novamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;Há muito tempo venho querendo tirar o pó desse blog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Esse texto tá bem simples,comparado c/ tanta coisa que tinha em mente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Ainda não pensei em um título pra ele... pretendo deixá-lo assim mesmo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Até a próxima!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;=**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-848389613203784583?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/848389613203784583/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/08/sentia-se-cansado.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/848389613203784583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/848389613203784583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/08/sentia-se-cansado.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TGHGSQ1RwtI/AAAAAAAAAQI/tinoWmurCmE/s72-c/rain_window_by_pompuspb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-5849908209268249737</id><published>2010-07-20T23:36:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T00:40:06.093-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pra você, meu amigo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TEZq9S0y0EI/AAAAAAAAAP4/DLv2qEckgb8/s1600/abraco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TEZq9S0y0EI/AAAAAAAAAP4/DLv2qEckgb8/s320/abraco.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496197996510105666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;A você que me ama incondicionalmente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Que enxuga minhas lágrimas, ouve meus dramas e nóias,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Me faz chorar de tanto rir ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;A você que consegue enxergar a pessoa por trás de mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Que sempre tem a palavra certa e o silêncio perfeito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;A você que nem sempre está presente,mas está sempre comigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Que me levanta quando caio e me faz ver que sempre há esperança.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:small;"&gt;A você que sempre me diz aquilo que preciso, que chama a atenção...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:small;"&gt;Que se aborrece, mas logo perdoa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;A você que passa horas vendo sites de produtos de cabelo e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;me ajudando a escolher a melhor nuance com a maior paciência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;que consegue ter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;A você que baixa o rosto com vergonha da minha gargalhada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;mas sente falta quando ela não está por perto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;A você dou todo o carinho e amor que há em mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;É para você, meu amigo, que dedico essas pobres palavras na &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;tentativa de expressar um pouco do que você é pra mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Feliz dia do Amigo!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;* Texto dedicado a todos que se identificarem com qualquer uma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;das partes escritas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;As últimas, dirijo mais diretamente a Gabriel Barros Rodrigues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;(Maninho,você merece muito mais que essas palavras, mas por hora,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;é o que consigo expressar.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-5849908209268249737?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/5849908209268249737/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/07/pra-voce-meu-amigo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5849908209268249737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5849908209268249737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/07/pra-voce-meu-amigo.html' title='Pra você, meu amigo'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TEZq9S0y0EI/AAAAAAAAAP4/DLv2qEckgb8/s72-c/abraco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-8672294462978798644</id><published>2010-07-19T11:47:00.008-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-17T15:24:04.679-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Desabafo'/><title type='text'>Sua garotinha</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TERpV3InqrI/AAAAAAAAAPw/v2iU5WwIdOg/s1600/avo1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TERpV3InqrI/AAAAAAAAAPw/v2iU5WwIdOg/s320/avo1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495633269597121202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Seus olhos foram os primeiros que encontrei...Cheios de brilho, de orgulho, de amor.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sua pele morna foi minha primeira sensação.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sua voz, a primeira canção.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- A cada ano sua menina crescia orgulhosa por fazê-la feliz.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sempre enxugando suas lágrimas e dando-lhe um motivo para sorrir.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Você nunca me deixou cair, nunca permitiu que eu falhasse,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;nunca se distanciou, nunca me abandonou.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas como eu poderia me levantar se nunca havia caído?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;ou como aprenderia com meus erros se nunca havia falhado?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Os anos passavam-se e me tornava cada vez menos você e cada vez mais eu.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Comecei a descobrir um mundo que você sempre escondeu de mim.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Lutar contra você me fez forte, decidida, orgulhosa, egoísta, fria.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Lutar contra ser como você me fez ser igual a você.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Hoje eu percebo que talvez você só estivesse me protegendo.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas já é tarde demais...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;- &lt;b&gt;Porque sua garotinha se foi e não vai mais voltar&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/i&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/6122533705076547773-8672294462978798644?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/8672294462978798644/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/07/seus-olhos-foram-os-primeiros-que.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/8672294462978798644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/8672294462978798644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/07/seus-olhos-foram-os-primeiros-que.html' title='Sua garotinha'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TERpV3InqrI/AAAAAAAAAPw/v2iU5WwIdOg/s72-c/avo1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4546599630987347038</id><published>2010-07-02T14:33:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T15:14:37.463-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"This time for Africa"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TC4sdKjem3I/AAAAAAAAAOo/w6G89YSaT5s/s1600/page3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TC4sdKjem3I/AAAAAAAAAOo/w6G89YSaT5s/s400/page3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489373875372202866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TC4sDEMveuI/AAAAAAAAAOg/17udlUGObJs/s1600/page2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 347px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TC4sDEMveuI/AAAAAAAAAOg/17udlUGObJs/s400/page2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489373426989628130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Por trás da riqueza, pobreza.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Por trás dos gritos, gemidos.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Por trás das cores, dores.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Por trás da festa, guerra.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Por trás da África, ÁFRICA!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TC4rbKCTYTI/AAAAAAAAAOY/mwz1mdblSRo/s1600/page1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 371px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TC4rbKCTYTI/AAAAAAAAAOY/mwz1mdblSRo/s400/page1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489372741361688882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-4546599630987347038?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4546599630987347038/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/07/this-time-for-africa_02.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4546599630987347038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4546599630987347038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/07/this-time-for-africa_02.html' title='&quot;This time for Africa&quot;'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/TC4sdKjem3I/AAAAAAAAAOo/w6G89YSaT5s/s72-c/page3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-1270798269590236972</id><published>2010-06-20T22:55:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T19:58:31.348-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Desabafo'/><title type='text'>Maldita esperança</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:small;"&gt;É incrível como uma coisa tão pequena, quase inexistente, pode causar tanta cólera!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Tudo o que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; quero é abrir meu peito de uma vez e arrancar com as próprias mãos esse maldito vestígio de esperança que insiste em me perturbar...que insiste em me fazer pensar, mesmo que muito pouco e muito raramente, que tudo pode ser diferente. Mas não vai...não há como ser nem eu quero que seja.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E não, eu não estou me enganando. Porque das poucas coisas que tenho certeza, essa é uma delas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Perdi a paciência de esperar pelo tempo...O tempo anda muito lento e eu tenho pressa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Eu não quero viver como se nada tivesse acontecido...eu apenas quero viver sem pensar que tudo pode acontecer novamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Não odeio as lembranças...odeio &lt;i&gt;essa&lt;/i&gt; maldita esperança!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/6122533705076547773-1270798269590236972?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/1270798269590236972/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/06/maldita-esperanca.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/1270798269590236972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/1270798269590236972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/06/maldita-esperanca.html' title='Maldita esperança'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-2330885177670470046</id><published>2010-06-20T00:15:00.014-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:38:53.450-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>19.06.2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;Hoje eu fui uma risada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;fui uma raiva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;  uma lágrima...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;Hoje eu fui um abraço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;fui um pensamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;  uma lembrança...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;Hoje eu fui vazio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;fui ausência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;                     eu mesma.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/6122533705076547773-2330885177670470046?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/2330885177670470046/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/06/19062010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2330885177670470046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2330885177670470046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/06/19062010.html' title='19.06.2010'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-8157308457903665780</id><published>2010-06-15T11:55:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T22:41:53.198-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;Contos&quot;'/><title type='text'>Meu pequeno monstro</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cerram-se as cortinas...e o quarto torna-se uma caixa negra tomada pelo breu.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não há som, não luz, movimento...Só minha respiração denuncia que há algo vivo.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Caminho devagar para não quebrar o equilíbrio.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Toco a maciez da minha cama e deito...Fecho os olhos e sinto que posso finalmente descansar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tudo parece estar perfeito:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Chuva fina escorrendo na janela, clima frio arrepiando meu corpo,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vento assobiando minha canção de ninar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;E meu único esforço é manter os olhos fechados e a mente vazia.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Aos poucos vou me aprofundando nos meu sonhos que aparecem um após outro.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Entre eles, uma figura deitada no terraço denuncia um pesadelo.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vou entrando em sua casa e ele responde ao meu "oi" como se não me conhecesse.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Lá dentro vejo rostos dos quais sinto falta e já não tenho pressa que esse pesadelo acabe.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;De repente a cena muda, mas os rostos ainda são os mesmos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;E meu pequeno monstro ainda está lá; encostado na parede, me observando...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Essa estranha e inusitada presença chega a  me incomodar por uns instantes.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Aqueles olhos que já me amaram agora me julgam culpada de um crime que ele mesmo cometeu.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Aos poucos tudo vai ficando mais claro&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;E quando eu finalmente já estou familiarizada com aquela presença,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;O som estridente do despertador me traz à realidade.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Agora acordada, vejo que ele não é apenas objeto de um sonho ruim...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ele é a lembrança constante de uma vida ruim.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas não vou tentar correr...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não quero mais fugir da verdade&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Porque hoje eu vi que você,meu pequeno monstro, não é &lt;b&gt;nada além de lembranças&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-8157308457903665780?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/8157308457903665780/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/06/meu-pequeno-monstro.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/8157308457903665780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/8157308457903665780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/06/meu-pequeno-monstro.html' title='Meu pequeno monstro'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-2925678412085741095</id><published>2010-06-07T09:54:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:21:28.046-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Desabafo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Não espere de mim várias ligações no seu celular,mensagens,recados mandados por amigos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Não espere me encontrar por coincidência premeditada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Não espere ver  lágrimas num rosto triste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Não espere ouvir notícias de minhas bebedeiras e noites em claro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Isso era o que eu também esperava, mas nada aconteceu como eu premeditava.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Hoje, datas não passam de números,músicas são apenas harmonias entre letra e instrumentos;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Lugares por onde passamos são simplesmente...lugares.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Ver-te em fotos não me causa mais nenhum efeito...perdê-lo de vez não me provoca medo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;A cada segundo toda aquela intensidade vai se esvaindo e hoje você é uma linha fina que vai progressivamente sumindo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Não que o sentimento não fosse verdadeiro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Eu simplesmente conheci um "eu" que eu não imaginava existir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E esse "eu" agora sabe que a felicidade não se atém a uma única coisa ou pessoa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;A felicidade está onde eu quero que esteja...com quem quer que seja.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;O fim dessa jornada apenas marca o começo de uma nova vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;*Esse texto foge completamente do que eu geralmente gosto de escrever. Mas no momento não posso me dar ao luxo de ser sutil quando toda palavra em mim grita para que se liberte estrondosamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Apenas precisava liberar um pouco tanto sentimento preso durante esses dias.&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/6122533705076547773-2925678412085741095?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/2925678412085741095/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/06/o-fim-e-so-o-comeco.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2925678412085741095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2925678412085741095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/06/o-fim-e-so-o-comeco.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4637124326556345201</id><published>2010-05-18T23:26:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:41:09.039-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>Flor do meu jardim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LAVlfR7YHSA/SR84-3vt4NI/AAAAAAAAAF0/-JPZxxaUlEk/s400/florsu7.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LAVlfR7YHSA/SR84-3vt4NI/AAAAAAAAAF0/-JPZxxaUlEk/s400/florsu7.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#551A8B;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Mudou a estação...murchou a minha flor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Vento frio levou meu calor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Passou e deixou a dor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;No céu,estrelas escondem-se de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A chuva veio e levou tudo de mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Murchou a flor do meu jardim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;**Sei que já faz muito tempo que não escrevo nada,quer dizer,rascunho fins que não têm começo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Palavras soltas que só cabem em mim...Mas hoje senti a necessidade de pôr aqui algo que,embora simples,tem muito significado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Espero não passar mais tanto tempo sem postar nada por aqui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&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/6122533705076547773-4637124326556345201?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4637124326556345201/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/05/flor-do-meu-jardim.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4637124326556345201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4637124326556345201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/05/flor-do-meu-jardim.html' title='Flor do meu jardim'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LAVlfR7YHSA/SR84-3vt4NI/AAAAAAAAAF0/-JPZxxaUlEk/s72-c/florsu7.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-3494583671285848309</id><published>2010-04-16T11:34:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:20:45.006-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dos outros (frases e poesias)'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;“Trust is like a mirror. You can fix it if it's broke...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;But you can still see the crack in that motherfuckers reflection”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&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/6122533705076547773-3494583671285848309?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/3494583671285848309/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/04/trust-is-like-mirror.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/3494583671285848309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/3494583671285848309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/04/trust-is-like-mirror.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-7142456293504933876</id><published>2010-03-30T22:57:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:32:27.473-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Reconstruindo sobre os cacos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5aIcZXMzpUc/S1KihTraAFI/AAAAAAAAANo/gliN1GtojCU/s320/escombros.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 251px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5aIcZXMzpUc/S1KihTraAFI/AAAAAAAAANo/gliN1GtojCU/s320/escombros.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;De longe vejo os escombros da minha vida&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ainda é difícil de acreditar que tudo desmoronou.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Aproximo-me e procuro pelo o que restou,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Juntos todos os pedaços&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E vou reconstruindo sobre os cacos.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-7142456293504933876?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/7142456293504933876/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/03/reconstruindo-sobre-os-cacos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/7142456293504933876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/7142456293504933876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/03/reconstruindo-sobre-os-cacos.html' title='Reconstruindo sobre os cacos'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5aIcZXMzpUc/S1KihTraAFI/AAAAAAAAANo/gliN1GtojCU/s72-c/escombros.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4587046827036398601</id><published>2010-03-21T19:50:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:32:27.474-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Sofrimento.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;É o preço que se paga por amar demais,se entregar demais.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Traição.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Recompensa de quem confia.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dor.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;É tudo o que se sente acima de qualquer sentimento.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Perdão.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;(...)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Esperança.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;(...)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Incerteza!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Na verdade eu tenho muuuito mais a dizer,mas se continuasse, o texto teria apenas palavras soltas inintendíveis.Na verdade,nem tudo é pra ser dito,apenas sentido...pena.Queria muito poder escrever a dor ao invés de sentí-la.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-4587046827036398601?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4587046827036398601/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/03/sofrimento.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4587046827036398601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4587046827036398601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/03/sofrimento.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-2351040132712372391</id><published>2010-02-20T01:17:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:34:56.406-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>Perdição</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Vou me despreocupar,me desorientar,me desgarrar.&lt;br /&gt;Mergulhar no infinito oceano das coisas incertas.&lt;br /&gt;Andar sozinha por estradas temidas e provar de todas as bebidas.&lt;br /&gt;Vou jogar-me em uns braços e perder-me nos abraços...sentir o prazer de todos os laços.&lt;br /&gt;Permitir-me a todos os devaneios,insanidades e probabilidades.&lt;br /&gt;Por um fim às minhas nóias e escrever novas histórias.&lt;br /&gt;Vou perdoar-me pelos erros que nunca cometi...revelar a verdade sobre mentiras que nunca contei.&lt;br /&gt;Vou beijar a flor do pecado e beber os sete venenos que me foram dados.&lt;br /&gt;Vou comer de tudo o que é proibido e dizer tudo o que não pode ser dito.&lt;br /&gt;E no fim saberei se tinha vivido ou me perdido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&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/6122533705076547773-2351040132712372391?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/2351040132712372391/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/perdicao.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2351040132712372391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2351040132712372391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/perdicao.html' title='Perdição'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-8703410866011518526</id><published>2010-02-19T22:06:00.011-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T13:24:53.177-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dos outros (frases e poesias)'/><title type='text'>...por Clarice Lispector</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não, não, o mundo não me agrada. A maioria das pessoas estão mortas e não  sabem, ou estão vivas com charlatanismo. E o amor, em vez de dar,  exige. E quem gosta de nós quer que sejamos alguma coisa de que eles  precisam. Mentir dá remorso. E não mentir é um dom que o mundo não  merece.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Há um silêncio dentro de mim. E &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;esse silêncio tem sido a fonte de minhas  palavras.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;-Sou como você me vê.Posso ser leve como uma brisa ou forte como uma  ventania,Depende de quando e como você me vê passar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Depois que aprendi a pensar por mim mesmo, nunca mais pensei igual aos  outros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Entender é sempre limitado. As coisas não precisam mais fazer sentido.  Não quero ter a terrível limitação de quem vive apenas do que é possível  fazer sentido. Eu não: quero é uma verdade inventada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Minha força está na solidão. Não tenho medo nem de chuvas tempestivas  nem de grandes ventanias soltas, pois eu também sou o escuro da noite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Me deram um nome e me alienaram de mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;-Passei a vida tentando corrigir os erros que cometi na minha ânsia de  acertar. Até cortar os próprios defeitos pode ser perigoso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;-Nunca se sabe qual é o defeito que sustenta nosso edifício inteiro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não sei amar pela metade. Não sei viver de mentira. Não sei voar de  pés no chão. Sou sempre eu mesma, mas com certeza não serei a mesma para  sempre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sou composta por urgências: minhas alegrias são intensas; minhas  tristezas, absolutas. Me entupo de ausências, me esvazio de excessos. Eu  não caibo no estreito, eu só vivo nos extremos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não me provoque, tenho armas escondidas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não me manipule, nasci pra ser livre&lt;/i&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Não me engane, posso não resistir...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não grite, tenho péssimo hábito de revidar&lt;/i&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Não me magoe, meu coração já tem muitas mágoas...&lt;br /&gt;Não me deixe ir, posso não mais voltar...&lt;br /&gt;Não me deixe só, tenho medo da escuridão...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não tente me contrariar, tenho palavras que machucam...&lt;br /&gt;Não me decepcione, nem sempre consigo perdoar&lt;/i&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Não espere me perder para sentir minha falta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-8703410866011518526?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/8703410866011518526/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/por-clarice-lispector.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/8703410866011518526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/8703410866011518526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/por-clarice-lispector.html' title='...por Clarice Lispector'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-3473646548773296968</id><published>2010-02-18T23:42:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:20:45.007-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dos outros (frases e poesias)'/><title type='text'>...por Bruna Lombardi</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=";font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eu gosto dos venenos mais lentos/dos cafés mais amargos/das bebidas mais fortes&lt;br /&gt;E tenho apetites vorazes/uns rapazes/que vejo passar&lt;br /&gt;Eu sonho os delírios mais soltos/e os gestos mais loucos que há&lt;br /&gt;E sinto uns desejos vulgares/navegar por uns mares&lt;br /&gt;de lá você pode me empurrar pro precipício/não me importo com isso/eu adoro voar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Você pode persegui-la, ameaçá-la/tachá-la, matá-la se quiser&lt;br /&gt;retalhar seu corpo, deixá-lo exposto/pra servir de exemplo.&lt;br /&gt;É inútil. Ela agora pode resistir/ao mais feroz dos tempos/à ira, ao pior julgamento&lt;br /&gt;Repara, ela renasce/ e brota nova rosa&lt;br /&gt;Atravessou a história/foi queimada viva, acusada&lt;br /&gt;desceu ao fundo dos infernos/e já não teme nada&lt;br /&gt;Retorna inteira, maior, mais larga/absolutamente poderosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;...Que eu sou de todas as misturas/todas as formas e sintonias&lt;br /&gt;e enfrento esse aperto, essas normas/forças, pressões, imposições, o poderio&lt;br /&gt;os intervalos, o silêncio da maioria.&lt;br /&gt;Você sabe de toda minha luta/mesmo quando a intenção silencia&lt;br /&gt;Que eu não cedo, não desisto/a todo custo,a toda faca, a todo risco&lt;br /&gt;Eu sobrevivo de paixão e de anarquia.&lt;br /&gt;Você sabe bem de minha fraude/Você conhece as minhas alquimias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;...Trago um crime que cometi ou que vou cometer/e jogo contra mim, jogo contra você&lt;br /&gt;Vivo do perigo de te fazer enlouquecer/no eterno dilema de ser e não ser&lt;br /&gt;Ando na beira do que pode acontecer/e morro de medo de te perder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sou tantas, e a cada dia uma.&lt;br /&gt;Quero da vida todas e mais algumas,&lt;br /&gt;Ir fundo em todas essas personagens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eu não agüentava mais de amor por você/Tava ardendo de vontade de você&lt;br /&gt;Você há de me querer/Há de tentar, se atrever&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo se for delito, se for errado/Maldito, amaldiçoado&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que o céu nos castigue/Com um eterno eclipse&lt;br /&gt;E venha o caos, satã, o fim de tudo/O cataclismo, o Apocalipse&lt;br /&gt;E a gente seja culpado/Porque não soube resistir a tentação&lt;br /&gt;Eu não quero me livrar desse pecado/E me salvo através dessa paixão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A gente se entrega ao risco/arrisca a pele, perde o rumo&lt;br /&gt;no prazer dessa desorientação&lt;br /&gt;A gente quer explodir e não pode/quer se conter e não sabe&lt;br /&gt;quer se livrar do jugo da paixão/mas não quer que ela acabe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=";font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/6122533705076547773-3473646548773296968?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/3473646548773296968/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/por-bruna-lombardi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/3473646548773296968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/3473646548773296968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/por-bruna-lombardi.html' title='...por Bruna Lombardi'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-6364738053449292014</id><published>2010-02-16T20:12:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:24:45.323-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'>Minha Oração</title><content type='html'>Pai nosso que está no céu,&lt;br /&gt;Não permita que eu seja guiada por emoção...por religião.Mas faz-me sentir todo dia a Tua unção.&lt;br /&gt;Que eu não seja como fogo de palha,mas que o Teu fogo brilhe em mim perpetuamente.&lt;br /&gt;Não permita que o meu sal não salgue e que minha luz se apague.&lt;br /&gt;Sei que não sou,não posso ser e nunca serei perfeita,mas Te peço humildade para reconhecer meus erros e sensibilidade para ouvir Teu Espírito me guiando.&lt;br /&gt;Faz-me com que eu fale do Teu amor mesmo em silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;Não deixe meu orgulho me afastar de Ti de novo.E se isso acontecer,seja como for,traga-me de volta para Ti.&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me a alegria de sentir Tua presença todos os dias,pois ela é a força que me sustenta.&lt;br /&gt;Não perdoe minhas ofensas assim como eu perdôo quem me tem ofendido.&lt;br /&gt;Amém.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-6364738053449292014?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/6364738053449292014/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/minha-oracao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/6364738053449292014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/6364738053449292014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/minha-oracao.html' title='Minha Oração'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-5591588179680841929</id><published>2010-02-13T19:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T19:50:25.131-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/S3csnmNbCVI/AAAAAAAAANk/DYwmCXklbrM/s1600-h/DSC06599.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/S3csnmNbCVI/AAAAAAAAANk/DYwmCXklbrM/s320/DSC06599.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437864133856528722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há 41 anos nasceu um porto seguro,uma companheira,conselheira;&lt;br /&gt;um abrigo,uma amiga,cúmplice...&lt;br /&gt;Uma mãe...a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;minha mãe&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;Ela não é o tipo de mulher que eu invejo...que desejo ser igual.&lt;br /&gt;É totalmente diferente de mim e parece que mesmo depois de 19 anos ainda não me conhece.&lt;br /&gt;Mas apesar de todas as vezes que já nos magoamos,sinto que nos amamos mais.&lt;br /&gt;E por mais que me torne "independente" eu sempre dependerei do seu braço...seu abraço.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-5591588179680841929?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/5591588179680841929/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-birthday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5591588179680841929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5591588179680841929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/S3csnmNbCVI/AAAAAAAAANk/DYwmCXklbrM/s72-c/DSC06599.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-6775503223327381879</id><published>2010-02-06T13:17:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T22:42:26.777-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;Contos&quot;'/><title type='text'>Últimos Momentos</title><content type='html'>Sua respiração fica cada vez mais lenta...e pesada.&lt;div&gt;A dor fez no seu estômago um buraco&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sua massa vai dissipando-se pelo ar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O coração bate descompassado...cansado.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aproxima-se a hora de sua morte.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ela já tomou uma decisão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Espera agora que o tempo passe e traga o "momento certo".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nunca um fim foi tão esperado.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E mesmo que não haja outro caminho...que não queira tomar outro caminho,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a esperança aparece-lhe como uma linha fina...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ínfima...e ainda assim,insistente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alimentando sonhos e desejos inexistentes...aumentando sua agonia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ela agora tenta inutilmente arrancá-la de si.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prende-se aos fatos...à realidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ouve agora a música de seu funeral; que já vem tocando há tanto tempo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas conforme os minutos passam,cada palavra faz mais sentido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O cansaço vai tomando todo seu corpo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E seu corpo precisará aguentar mais um pouco&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;até que possa finalmente descansar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-6775503223327381879?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/6775503223327381879/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/ultimos-momentos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/6775503223327381879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/6775503223327381879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/ultimos-momentos.html' title='Últimos Momentos'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-2997930541265065109</id><published>2010-02-05T01:17:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:24:45.324-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Mente vazia.&lt;div&gt;Por dentro apenas dor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por fora apenas lágrima&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-2997930541265065109?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/2997930541265065109/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/mente-vazia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2997930541265065109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/2997930541265065109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/02/mente-vazia.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-6965510831838001358</id><published>2010-01-30T01:56:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T22:42:26.778-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;Contos&quot;'/><title type='text'>Segura no Infinito</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;01:56 am&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sinto a brisa fria passar pelos meus olhos já cansados de lutar conta o sono.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meu corpo começa a me lembrar que não poderei adiar por mais tempo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A contra-gosto,deito-me e espero a escuridão me alcançar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Começa tudo de novo: sonhos embaralhados; pesadelos insanos...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Passo olhando-os de fora,como se não fossem meus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De repente,entre um sonho e outro encontro um vazio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Posso reconhecê-lo.Lá já morou um sonho ou um pesadelo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mesmo sabendo que nada vou encontrar,o escuro me atrai para dentro de si.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vagueio agora em um buraco negro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não há cor.Não há forma.Não há brilho.Nada!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E isso me traz uma estranha sensação de conforto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Começo a andar mais à vontade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dentro do vazio não existe mais nada além de mim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O silêncio agora me parece um convite a ficar mais tempo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fico.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vou aprofundando-me no breu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O sentimento de solidão chega a ser inevitável.E prazeroso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vejo-me sozinha comigo mesma.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As únicas vozes que ouço são as de minha mente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As únicas imagens são borrões de minha memória.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Estou só.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Estou livre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Estou feliz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aqui estou segura contra tudo o que me impede de ser eu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mergulho cada vez mais fundo num mar de pensamentos surreais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sinto agora um calor estranho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Viro-me e vejo a luz entrando pela janela.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Começo a perceber as cores ao redor de mim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;08:17 am&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amanheceu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E já não vejo a hora de adormecer novamente.&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-6965510831838001358?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/6965510831838001358/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/segura-no-infinito.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/6965510831838001358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/6965510831838001358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/segura-no-infinito.html' title='Segura no Infinito'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-78652997070692163</id><published>2010-01-28T00:14:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:34:56.406-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tenho fome do desconhecido&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Desejo o inalcansável&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Busco o que não existe&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sinto falta do que já tenho&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ouço sons onde não há música&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vejo com os olhos fechados&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Vivo meu futuro&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Adio o presente&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Nego o incontestável&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Firmo-me no instável&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cumpro o que não prometi&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Procuro-me na luz&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Encontro-me na escuridão&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tudo é sempre muito pouco&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Esvazio-me do que não tenho&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Encho-me de nada&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E vivo assim,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt; -incompleta.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-78652997070692163?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/78652997070692163/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/tenho-fome-do-desconhecido-desejo-o.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/78652997070692163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/78652997070692163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/tenho-fome-do-desconhecido-desejo-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-5105513156670671702</id><published>2010-01-15T01:04:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:32:27.475-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Meus 50 "Is"</title><content type='html'>IndecisaImplicante&lt;b&gt;Impaciente&lt;/b&gt;InseguraImatura&lt;div&gt;IntoleranteIgnoranteIncansávelInsaciável"Inteligente"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ImprudenteInsistenteImpulsivaImpetuosaIntrigante&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;InteressanteInstiganteImaginativa&lt;b&gt;Intensa&lt;/b&gt;Ímpar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ImperfeitaImpenitenteIntuitivaImpressionanteInstável&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Íntegra"IntrospectivaIndiscretaInsanaIncoerente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;IncompatívelIncomparável&lt;b&gt;Incisiv&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;a&lt;/b&gt;IncitanteImportante&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;IndelicadaImponente"Ingênua"IntransigenteIrremediável&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;IrracionalInquieta&lt;b&gt;Irregular&lt;/b&gt;IrresolutaIncrível&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;InstintivaImperativaIdílicaImodesta&lt;b&gt;Incomum&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-5105513156670671702?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/5105513156670671702/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/meus-50-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5105513156670671702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5105513156670671702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/meus-50-is.html' title='Meus 50 &quot;Is&quot;'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4169382437791580543</id><published>2010-01-05T14:02:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:32:27.475-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Hoje procurei teu cheiro na minha blusa.Não encontrei.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hoje busquei o gosto dos teus lábios.Não achei.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hoje quis sentir teu calor.Esfriei.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hoje quis ouvir tua voz...Ensurdeci?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hoje quis ver o brilho o teu olhar...Escuridão.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Você não sente ou eu perdi os sentidos? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Por que você se foi,se ainda continua tão perto?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Por que agora duvido do que pensei que era certo?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Está tudo tão diferente...ou era ilusão da minha mente?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Espero tanto e tenho tão pouco.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Talvez o pouco pra mim seja demais pra você.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;E viveremos assim? Desigual?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Até quando? Eu não sei...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pois com você eu sofro e sem você eu morro.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-4169382437791580543?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4169382437791580543/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/hoje-procurei-teu-cheiro-na-minha-blusa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4169382437791580543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4169382437791580543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/hoje-procurei-teu-cheiro-na-minha-blusa.html' title=''/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4735244385686218418</id><published>2010-01-04T00:34:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:31:47.906-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>Poema Bestinha</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Sinto que já te conhecia...dos meus sonhos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dos mais ternos,mais profundos,mais bonitos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tão distantes e há tanto tempo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Que eu já nem me lembro.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas ao te ver&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Revivo cada momento daquele sonho.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Daquele sonho onde de amor você me falava,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Suavemente me tocava,docemente me beijava.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hoje sei que é você...o garoto dos meus sonhos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dos meus sonhos mais ternos,mais profundos,mais bonitos...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do sonho que hoje vivo.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Escrito há mais de um ano,em plena revisão para o vestibular...rascunhado na contracapa da apostila.[A partir de hoje sigo o conselho de Gabriel:datar tudo o que eu escrever.]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Inspirado pelo meu muso inspirador antes mesmo de ser meu.&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-4735244385686218418?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4735244385686218418/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/poema-bestinha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4735244385686218418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4735244385686218418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/poema-bestinha.html' title='Poema Bestinha'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4169251717142640452</id><published>2010-01-02T18:02:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:29:24.429-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;poesia&quot;'/><title type='text'>Tentando poetizar (...)</title><content type='html'>Eu quero hoje o nosso amor de antes:&lt;div&gt;Novo,tímido,puro...&lt;b&gt;sem erros&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu quero hoje o nosso amor de agora:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maior,profundo,&lt;b&gt;intenso&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu quero hoje o nosso amor de amanhã:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Firme,experiente...&lt;b&gt;seguro&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu quero hoje o nosso amor de sempre:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sincero,verdadeiro,&lt;b&gt;eterno&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Escrito num dos momentos de plena confusão no meu juízo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não lembro o que sentia na hora,mas devia ter sido algo parecido com o que isso tenta passar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-4169251717142640452?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4169251717142640452/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/tentando-poetizar.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4169251717142640452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4169251717142640452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/tentando-poetizar.html' title='Tentando poetizar (...)'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-5279524645964140070</id><published>2010-01-02T01:55:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:25:30.592-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'>19 years old</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/Sz-zuwaJ8JI/AAAAAAAAAM4/FLK2BY5SSHs/s1600-h/bolo-de-aniversario-300x286.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/Sz-zuwaJ8JI/AAAAAAAAAM4/FLK2BY5SSHs/s320/bolo-de-aniversario-300x286.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422250092227326098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Iiihh! Faz tempo! (23/12/2009,para ser mais exata)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E o que mudou? Tanto e nada ao mesmo tempo.Acaba-se por definitivo a ilusão da liberdade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afinal,no fim sempre dependemos de alguém ou de algo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-5279524645964140070?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/5279524645964140070/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/19-years-old.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5279524645964140070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/5279524645964140070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2010/01/19-years-old.html' title='19 years old'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NYHL2GYWw8o/Sz-zuwaJ8JI/AAAAAAAAAM4/FLK2BY5SSHs/s72-c/bolo-de-aniversario-300x286.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4947959265666528913</id><published>2009-12-29T21:30:00.008-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:24:18.335-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'>Enfim o final!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Chegando ao fim mais um ano. Ano de cão,particularmente falando.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas num vou relatar até porque prometi a mim mesma que isso não seria diário; e também só teria acontecimentos chatos,tristes,enfim...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas quero falar do que me dá forças pra crer que 2010 será melhor: Esperança!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Muitas vezes esquecida,ela é algo que não deveria nos faltar em momento algum.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"...&lt;i&gt;sabendo que a tribulação produz paciência; e a paciência, a experiência; e a experiência, a esperança&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;i&gt;E &lt;b&gt;a esperança não traz confusão&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;"(Rm 5: 3-5)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu poderia falar dos meus desejos para mim,para as pessoas,para o mundo...prolixar por um bom tempo palavras bonitas e tocantes de anseio por melhoras,mas não.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Desejo apenas esperança a mim,às pessoas e ao mundo.É ela quem não nos deixa morrer...quem nos faz reviver.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Resta-me,pois, encerrar com um poema de Mário Quintana:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  color: rgb(127, 127, 127); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"Lá bem no alto do décimo segundo andar do Ano&lt;br /&gt;Vive uma louca chamada Esperança&lt;br /&gt;E ela pensa que quando todas as sirenas&lt;br /&gt;Todas as buzinas&lt;br /&gt;Todos os reco-recos tocarem&lt;br /&gt;Atira-se&lt;br /&gt;E— ó delicioso vôo!&lt;br /&gt;Ela será encontrada miraculosamente incólume na calçada,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  color: rgb(127, 127, 127); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Outra vez criança...&lt;br /&gt;E em torno dela indagará o povo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  color: rgb(127, 127, 127); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;— Como é teu nome, meninazinha de olhos verdes?&lt;br /&gt;E ela lhes dirá(É preciso dizer-lhes tudo de novo!)&lt;br /&gt;Ela lhes dirá bem devagarinho, para que não esqueçam:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  color: rgb(127, 127, 127); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;— O meu nome é ES-PE-RAN-ÇA..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;*Deixemo-la voar!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-4947959265666528913?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4947959265666528913/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/12/enfom-o-final.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4947959265666528913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4947959265666528913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/12/enfom-o-final.html' title='Enfim o final!'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-1524802279746087514</id><published>2009-12-11T18:14:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T22:40:38.572-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Desabafo'/><title type='text'>Escrúpulo</title><content type='html'>Estávamos hoje eu,Manú e Daniel no fundo do busão conversando merda (literalmente).Aí,conversa vai conversa vem...&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Manú: "Uma vez o banheiro público tava mt sujo,cheio de vômito,etc...Aí eu e minhas amigas fomos prum bar fazer xixi,só q o bar era de frango.Tinha uns gays se beijando e umas meninas olhando p gente..Ouxe..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu: Aff...homens se beijando é mt feio.Meninas se beijando é bonitinho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ela fez um gesto de repulsa,brincando...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Daniel: rsrsrsrsrsrsrsrsrs (como sempre!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Umas pessoas que estavam mais perto olharam estranhamente pra mim.Senti que a repulsa agora era de verdade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aí um homem sentado na minha frente virou sorrindo e concordou com meu comentário e começou a contar situações engraçadas com ele envolvendo homossexuais também.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Manú começa a rir desesperadamente quando o homem começa a conversar comigo.Quando finalmente ela consegue se acalmar vira pra mim e diz:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Cala a boca,Thárcia!" rsrsrsrsrsrsrs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu: Ouxe...eu só falei o que todo mundo pensa!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sinto novamente olhares repulsivos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O homem vira-se novamente, concordando.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Continuamos nosso percurso conversando e rindo muito sobre muitas coisas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Surgiram alguns comentários não preconceituosos,mas nem todos entenderiam,então deixo-os no ar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O que me veio à cabeça foi tamanha hipocrisia alheia!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Onde está minha liberdade de expressão?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Claro que ninguém tem que concordar comigo,mas deve ao menos respeitar o que penso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E sei que muitas vezes penso o que todos pensam mas têm medo de falar,por isso digo mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;Sem tabus,sem frescura,mas com muito respeito e ética sempre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pra que tanto falso escrúpulo?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Você pode enganar a todos,menos a si mesmo!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por isso sou sempre muito sincera comigo mesma e tento ser assim com todos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Revelar logo quem eu sou,o que penso;sem fazer propaganda enganosa,mostrar algo que não sou.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quanto ao homossexualismo eu sou contra essa prática,mas tenho muito respeito pelas pessoas que praticam.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Talvez se eu tivesse falando mal dos gays as pessoas me olhariam de um jeito diferente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Como disse que achava "bunitinhu" carinho entre meninas,fui discriminada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas eu não ligo muito,não.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O que realmente me afeta é saber que ainda existem pessoas hipócritas!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Falei,falo e voltarei a falar em alto e bom som tudo o que penso.Gostem ou não.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E só "volto atrás" caso tenha ofendido alguém.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Abaixo a hipocrisia!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Abaixo o preconceito!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Abaixo o falso escrúpulo!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;VIVA A LIBERDADE DE EXPRESSÃO!!!&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-1524802279746087514?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/1524802279746087514/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/12/escrupulo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/1524802279746087514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/1524802279746087514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/12/escrupulo.html' title='Escrúpulo'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-6505043289029970268</id><published>2009-10-27T00:11:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:25:30.595-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'>???</title><content type='html'>Ser ou não ser?&lt;div&gt;Preto ou branco?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doce ou salgado?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Café ou leite?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bom ou ruim?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pra sempre ou passageiro?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De verdade ou fingimento?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Certo ou errado?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;A certeza não existiria se não houvesse dúvida.Logo,acho-me no direito de ser insegura,já que há tantos caminhos mas apenas um por onde posso ir.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas como saber se é o melhor? Eu não sei. Só se sabe depois que está lá e de lá,muitas vezes,não dá pra voltar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Por isso é melhor pensar antes,embora essa vida não nos dê muito tempo pra isso.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Então,o que fazer?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;VIVER!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não importa se você não sabe o que lhe espera pela frente.Apenas siga!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não importa se não será amado.Apenas ame!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não importa se não sabe aonde ir.Apenas ande!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não importa se valerá a pena.Apenas faça!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do jeito certo ou errado,apenas&lt;b&gt; viva&lt;/b&gt;!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-6505043289029970268?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/6505043289029970268/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/6505043289029970268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/6505043289029970268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html' title='???'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-4141354490934228853</id><published>2009-07-29T07:11:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:25:30.596-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'>Definições e Por quês</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Você já parou pra pensar como tudo o que acontece na vida tem que ter uma explicação...como,quando,por que?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Nos prendemos a definir o que sentimos mas não nos prendemos a simplesmente viver aquilo que sentimos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Se estamos tristes, passamos mais tempo nos lamentando e buscando uma explicação do por quê isto está acontecendo do que procurando um meio de reverter essa tristeza.E é incrível como isso também acontece quando estamos felizes.Talvez não nós,mas os outros ao nosso redor vivem tentando entender o que está acontecendo conosco para sermos tão felizes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Por mim,as definições e os por quês deveriam existir apenas no indispensável,como uma doença que deve ser diagnosticada e não no que estamos sentindo.Nem tudo precisa de explicação para ser real!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Por que simplesmente não aceitamos algumas coisas como elas são?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Odeio como algumas pessoas são tão presas à respostas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;A vida já é tão efêmera.Vamos apenas vivê-la!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ser feliz sem saber porquê. Ficar triste sem saber como.Amar sem entender.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(72, 36, 0);  line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"Pergunte, sem querer a resposta, como estou perguntando. Não se preocupe em entender. VIVER ULTRAPASSA TODO ENTENDIMENTO."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&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/6122533705076547773-4141354490934228853?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/4141354490934228853/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/07/definicoes-e-por-ques.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4141354490934228853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/4141354490934228853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/07/definicoes-e-por-ques.html' title='Definições e Por quês'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-8862245672296206553</id><published>2009-07-25T13:32:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:25:30.597-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pensamentos soltos'/><title type='text'>(...)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;De certa forma,o que achamos ser imperfeito em nós,é fundamental para nos definir como seres humanos e nos fazer ser lembrados por onde passamos. E segundo Clarice Lispector,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(72, 36, 0); font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;"Até cortar os próprios defeitos pode ser perigoso. Nunca se sabe qual é o defeito que sustenta nosso edifício inteiro".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#482400;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Então,o que pensamos ser defeito passa a ser necessidade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-8862245672296206553?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/8862245672296206553/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/07/de-certa-formao-que-achamos-ser.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/8862245672296206553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/8862245672296206553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/07/de-certa-formao-que-achamos-ser.html' title='(...)'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122533705076547773.post-1459987693210364091</id><published>2009-07-23T23:01:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T01:21:04.439-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dos outros (frases e poesias)'/><title type='text'>Idiotice</title><content type='html'>&lt;b style="font-weight: 700; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;"A idiotice é vital&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; para a felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;Gente chata essa que quer ser séria, profunda e visceral sempre.&lt;br /&gt;Putz! A vida já é um caos, por que fazermos dela, ainda por cima, um tratado?&lt;br /&gt;Deixe a seriedade para as horas em que ela é inevitável: mortes, separações, dores e afins. No dia-a-dia, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;pelo amor de Deus, seja idiota&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Ria dos próprios defeitos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;. E de quem acha defeitos em você. Ignore o que o boçal do seu colega da faculdade disse. Pense assim: quem tem que carregar aquela cara feia, todos os dias, inseparavelmente, é ele. Pobre dele.&lt;br /&gt;Milhares de casamentos acabaram-se não pela falta de amor, dinheiro, sexo, sincronia, mas pela ausência de idiotice. Trate seu amor como seu melhor amigo, e pronto.&lt;br /&gt;Quem disse que é bom dividirmos a vida com alguém que tem conselho pra tudo, soluções sensatas, mas não consegue rir quando tropeça?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6122533705076547773-1459987693210364091?l=tharciakarine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/feeds/1459987693210364091/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/07/idiotice.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/1459987693210364091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6122533705076547773/posts/default/1459987693210364091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tharciakarine.blogspot.com/2009/07/idiotice.html' title='Idiotice'/><author><name>Thárcia Karine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06859584827652560790</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4b1GCKwckg4/TxOQl0m4PAI/AAAAAAAAAV0/JETVUQ_WxkQ/s220/DSC07835.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
