<?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-5635174479624031316</id><updated>2011-10-12T22:45:18.564-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Canela com Leite</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://canelacomleite.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5635174479624031316/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://canelacomleite.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5635174479624031316.post-4323235911857818828</id><published>2010-11-24T00:55:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T00:55:28.357-02:00</updated><title type='text'>dead poets society</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhFNegi6rHo/TOx-TOaRRTI/AAAAAAAAXw8/5ipq4wQbH8o/s1600/DeadPoetsSociety1989CD2.avi_003839798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="168" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhFNegi6rHo/TOx-TOaRRTI/AAAAAAAAXw8/5ipq4wQbH8o/s320/DeadPoetsSociety1989CD2.avi_003839798.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Fui para os bosques&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;viver de livre vontade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Para sugar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;todo o tutano da vida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Para aniquilar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;tudo o que não era vida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;E para, quando morrer,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;não descobrir que não vivi"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/5635174479624031316-4323235911857818828?l=canelacomleite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://canelacomleite.blogspot.com/feeds/4323235911857818828/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5635174479624031316&amp;postID=4323235911857818828' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5635174479624031316/posts/default/4323235911857818828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5635174479624031316/posts/default/4323235911857818828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://canelacomleite.blogspot.com/2010/11/dead-poets-society.html' title='dead poets society'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WhFNegi6rHo/TOx-TOaRRTI/AAAAAAAAXw8/5ipq4wQbH8o/s72-c/DeadPoetsSociety1989CD2.avi_003839798.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5635174479624031316.post-6064873005227361738</id><published>2009-12-14T20:56:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T20:56:43.834-02:00</updated><title type='text'>te quero...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', 'Bitstream Vera Sans', georgia, verdana, lucida, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;b style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;Querer (Pablo Neruda)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não te quero senão porque te quero&lt;br /&gt;E de querer-te a não querer-te chego&lt;br /&gt;E de esperar-te quando não te espero&lt;br /&gt;Passa meu coração do frio ao fogo.&lt;br /&gt;Te quero só porque a ti te quero,&lt;br /&gt;Te odeio sem fim, e odiando-te rogo,&lt;br /&gt;E a medida de meu amor viageiro&lt;br /&gt;É não ver-te e amar-te como um cego.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez consumirá a luz de janeiro&lt;br /&gt;Seu raio cruel, meu coração inteiro,&lt;br /&gt;Roubando-me a chave do sossego.&lt;br /&gt;Nesta história só eu morro&lt;br /&gt;E morrerei de amor porque te quero,&lt;br /&gt;Porque te quero, amor, a sangue e a fogo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5635174479624031316-6064873005227361738?l=canelacomleite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://canelacomleite.blogspot.com/feeds/6064873005227361738/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5635174479624031316&amp;postID=6064873005227361738' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5635174479624031316/posts/default/6064873005227361738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5635174479624031316/posts/default/6064873005227361738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://canelacomleite.blogspot.com/2009/12/te-quero.html' title='te quero...'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5635174479624031316.post-3793086149347300143</id><published>2009-12-08T19:08:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T19:10:09.642-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Viver não dói</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;Definitivo, como tudo o que é simples.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nossa dor não advém das coisas vividas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas das coisas que foram sonhadas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e não se cumpriram.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por que sofremos tanto por amor?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O certo seria a gente não sofrer,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;apenas agradecer por termos conhecido&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;uma pessoa tão bacana,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que gerou em nós um sentimento intenso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e que nos fez companhia por um tempo razoável,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;um tempo feliz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sofremos por quê?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque automaticamente esquecemos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;o que foi desfrutado e passamos a sofrer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pelas nossas projeções irrealizadas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;por todas as cidades que gostaríamos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;de ter conhecido ao lado do nosso amor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e não conhecemos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;por todos os filhos que&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;gostaríamos de ter tido junto e não&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tivemos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;por todos os shows e livros e silêncios&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que gostaríamos de ter compartilhado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e não compartilhamos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por todos os beijos cancelados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pela eternidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sofremos não porque nosso trabalho é&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;desgastante e paga pouco,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas por todas as horas livres&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que deixamos de ter para ir ao cinema,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;para conversar com um amigo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;para nadar, para namorar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sofremos não porque nossa mãe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;é impaciente conosco,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas por todos os momentos em que&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;poderíamos estar confidenciando a ela&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nossas mais profundas angústias&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;se ela estivesse interessada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;em nos compreender.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sofremos não porque nosso time perdeu,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas pela euforia sufocada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sofremos não porque envelhecemos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas porque o futuro está sendo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;confiscado de nós&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;impedindo assim que mil aventuras&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nos aconteçam,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;todas aquelas com as quais sonhamos e&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nunca chega mos a experimentar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Como aliviar a dor do que não foi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;vivido?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A resposta é simples como um verso:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se iludindo menos e vivendo mais!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A cada dia que vivo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mais me convenço de que o&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;desperdício da vida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;está no amor que não damos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nas forças que não usamos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;na prudência egoísta que nada arrisca,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e que, esquivando-se do sofrimento,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;perdemos também a felicidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A dor é inevitável&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O sofrimento é opcional.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;CDA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5635174479624031316-3793086149347300143?l=canelacomleite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://canelacomleite.blogspot.com/feeds/3793086149347300143/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5635174479624031316&amp;postID=3793086149347300143' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5635174479624031316/posts/default/3793086149347300143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5635174479624031316/posts/default/3793086149347300143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://canelacomleite.blogspot.com/2009/12/viver-nao-doi.html' title='Viver não dói'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
