<?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-7398440439295209164</id><updated>2011-11-27T23:14:32.824-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Penseira</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>125</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-5956313625452025396</id><published>2011-09-15T00:29:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T00:31:11.695-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #424242; font-family: arial, tahoma, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal arial; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #351c75; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;GREVE!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #351c75; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #351c75; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;MOTIVO: MAIS DO MESMO!&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/7398440439295209164-5956313625452025396?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/5956313625452025396/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/09/costumeiramente-as-atitudes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5956313625452025396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5956313625452025396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/09/costumeiramente-as-atitudes.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-893899066470128071</id><published>2011-07-04T23:54:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T23:54:13.835-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Entender</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo o descaso...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo a indiferença...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo o amor...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Muito menos a guerra...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo o desperdício...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo a falta...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo o preconceito, o ódio, o desprezo...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo a mágoa e o rancor...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo a culpa...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo a solidão...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo a vida...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Muito menos a morte...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo o sonho...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Muito menos a realidade...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo o vazio...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo o medo...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo o vício...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Não entendo nada...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;E de nada entendo...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;E talvez, de nada adiante entender...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-893899066470128071?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/893899066470128071/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/07/entender.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/893899066470128071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/893899066470128071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/07/entender.html' title='Entender'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1827790550779428381</id><published>2011-04-01T00:25:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T00:25:15.893-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Rasgo sentimentos como se fossem de papel&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Jogo fora tudo que não presta, inclusive pessoas&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Choro com dor, e rio com prazer&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Me desfaço e me reconstruo num piscar de olhos&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Grito com a alma, sussurro como um anjo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Sim, sou exagerada, sou intensa&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Não tenho medo, dou minha cara a tapa, a soco e até a pontapés&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Compro minhas lutas a preço de sangue&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Se venço, se perco, isso é problema meu, apenas meu&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Defendo as coisas importantes com unhas e dentes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Seduzo com o olhar, e brinco com palavras&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Sim sou emocional, sou emotiva e visceral&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Sinceridade ferina sim, se você quer ouvir eu vou dizer&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Se não quiser não me pergunte&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Peco pelo excesso, mas nunca pela falta&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Agüento as porradas da vida de pé, choro, mas não caio&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Sim, sou forte, mas não de pedra&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Sou mais sensível e mais romântica do que muitos pensam&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Aliás, muitos pensam, muitos julgam, muitos rotulam&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Rótulos não me interessam... Muito menos as pessoas que os fazem&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;É o preço da inveja, do preconceito&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Não, não é pretensão ou presunção&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;É carne e osso, é coração, é humano, é mulher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&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/7398440439295209164-1827790550779428381?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1827790550779428381/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/04/rasgo-sentimentos-como-se-fossem-de.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1827790550779428381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1827790550779428381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/04/rasgo-sentimentos-como-se-fossem-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1894993520764356733</id><published>2011-03-02T01:23:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T01:23:34.676-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Tinha cheiro de morango, porém gosto de pêra fresca ainda molhada de orvalho...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;O ar rarefeito dilatava o calor da pele...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Mesmo que pisando no asfalto, sentia como se estivesse a pisar na grama úmida pela chuva de verão...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Mesmo tendo postes e prédios no meu horizonte, podia ver grandes carvalhos, pinheiros, ipês e baobás...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Dancei... Tocava Smiths no velho rádio... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Apesar da calça jeans, do tênis e da blusa, senti que vestia um vestido leve de cores claras...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Até que senti a chuva voltar, fininha, quase um carinho...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;No meio do meu devaneio senti dois olhos pousados em mim...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Procurei, mas não os encontrei...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Parei, fiquei imóvel para tentar localizar de onde vinha aquele olhar... Senti de novo bem a minha frente... Corri...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Corri na direção do olhar... De quem seria?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Continue correndo entre as minhas árvores, e aquele olhar corria também, corria para que eu não o alcançasse, mas eu não ia desistir...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Corri mais rápido... A música ficava cada vez mais longe... Agora só ouvia o som da minha floresta...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Corri, até que senti uma raiz solta me segurar pelo tornozelo, gritei e cai de frente sobre as folhas secas e cheias de musgo... Girei o corpo e vi o céu por entre o topos das árvores... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Olhei as mãos, as pernas e o vestido... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Todos se sujaram de terra molhada, musgo e ganharam enfeites de folhas secas, no meio de tudo isso havia sangue, meu sangue, havia me cortado quando cai... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Agora a pele ardia dos pequenos cortes e arranhões que sofrera, deixei os braços caírem ao lado do corpo com as mãos espalmadas e olhei o céu... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Desatei a rir... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Um riso leve que amenizou a dor, ri do meu jeito desastrado e desajeitado... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;No meio do meu riso, senti água sendo despejada sobre meu braço, ... Levantei de súbito, assustada... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Os olhos que eu estava procurando, estavam ali...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Jogando água sobre as minhas feridas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&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/7398440439295209164-1894993520764356733?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1894993520764356733/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/03/tinha-cheiro-de-morango-porem-gosto-de.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1894993520764356733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1894993520764356733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/03/tinha-cheiro-de-morango-porem-gosto-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-9144550200364995299</id><published>2011-03-02T01:22:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T01:22:16.045-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sobre os dias e noites de chuva</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Sim, são melancólicos não há como negar, não há quem não pense em estar na cama assistindo um filme e talvez não importe se sozinho ou acompanhado. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;O fato é que um dia ou noite de chuva. nunca passa despercebido, ninguém é indiferente a ele, uns gostam, outros não, há quem ame e há quem odeie...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Particularmente, eu não gosto. Mesmo que a chuva limpe nosso ar, encha nossos rios, alimente nossa natureza e nos permita continuar vivendo, o tom cinza do céu me incomoda. Parece que nunca mais haverá cor, alegria no mundo... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Quem dera as nuvens fossem coloridas e as gotas furta cor. Assim, mesmo em dia chorosos, nunca perderíamos o ânimo.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Mas o que mais incomoda aos fãs de dias ensolarados e quentes, é a presença constante do nosso maior inimigo e maior companheiro, a solidão. Aquela mão pesada no ombro que nos dias de sol são mais leves, e nos de chuva, além de pesadas, são frias. A sensação de desproteção e tristeza dos dias cinzas aproxima a solidão, um inimigo quase invencível, mas que se aprende a conviver com o tempo. Sim, pra quem sente solidão ela nunca vai embora mesmo nos dias de sol e cheios de amor, e por mais que ela castigue, você pode aprende muito com ela, se deixar que ela ensine. Mas cuidado! Não deixe ela tomar conta de você, a solidão pode ser sedutora e pode tornar todos os seus dias cinzas e chorosos.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Hoje nesse dia de chuva, eu cantei... Cantei pra chuva e parece que ela gostou, pois senti que ela cantava comigo, batendo forte contra o asfalto. Isso manteve a solidão quieta no canto dela. Estávamos eu e a chuva cantando juntas quase em uníssono, celebrando o mundo, mesmo que esse mundo seja apenas o meu.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;28/02/2011&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-9144550200364995299?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/9144550200364995299/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/03/sobre-os-dias-e-noites-de-chuva.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/9144550200364995299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/9144550200364995299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/03/sobre-os-dias-e-noites-de-chuva.html' title='Sobre os dias e noites de chuva'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1769947527258552935</id><published>2011-02-09T00:40:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T00:40:56.780-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TVH-nTAZgaI/AAAAAAAAAl4/We_7RteF3cU/s1600/54079_Papel-de-Parede-Rododendros-ao-Nascer-do-Sol-Carolina-do-Norte_800x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="217" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TVH-nTAZgaI/AAAAAAAAAl4/We_7RteF3cU/s320/54079_Papel-de-Parede-Rododendros-ao-Nascer-do-Sol-Carolina-do-Norte_800x600.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"É que o sol nasce pra você, me disse ele no dia em que nós estávamos deitados entre os rododendros e eu obriguei ele pela primeira vez a me pedir, sim, eu lhe dei um pedaço de bolo da minha boca e era ano bissexto como agora, sim, já passaram 16 anos, meu Deus, depois do beijo comprido que eu quase perdi o ar ele disse que eu era uma flor da montanha, sim, é que nós todas somos flores em nosso corpo de mulher, sim, e aí foi porque eu gostei dele pois entendia o que uma mulher era e dei a ele todo prazer que eu podia empurrando ele até ele pedir para eu dizer sim mas eu não respondia de saída, olhando o céu e o mar e estava pensando numa porção de coisas que ele não sabia, de pessoas com nomes que ele nunca ouvira, do meu pai, do Capitão, do mercado da rua Duque, dos burrinhos meio dormindo escorregando pela ladeira, das moças espanholas de xale, rindo, rindo, de Ronda olhando para o amante dela pelas frestas da veneziana das casas amarelas e dos jasmins de Gilbraltar, quando eu menina era como uma flor da montanha, sim quando eu botei uma rosa no cabelo como as raparigas andaluzas costumavam fazer e como ele me beijou debaixo da torre mourisca e eu pensei bem tanto &amp;nbsp;faz ele como outro qualquer, sim, e com os meus olhos eu pedi a ele pra me pedir de novo, sim, e então ele me pediu se eu deixava, sim, eu dizia sim minha flor da montanha e eu primeiro botei meus braços no pescoço dele, sim, e puxei-o pra mim para ele sentir meus seios todos perfumados, sim, e o coração dele batia como louco, e sim, eu disse sim, eu deixo, sim."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solilóquo de Molly Bloom, do Texto Ulisses, de James Joyce&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-1769947527258552935?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1769947527258552935/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/02/e-que-o-sol-nasce-pra-voce-me-disse-ele.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1769947527258552935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1769947527258552935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/02/e-que-o-sol-nasce-pra-voce-me-disse-ele.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TVH-nTAZgaI/AAAAAAAAAl4/We_7RteF3cU/s72-c/54079_Papel-de-Parede-Rododendros-ao-Nascer-do-Sol-Carolina-do-Norte_800x600.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-7300916911061667058</id><published>2011-01-24T03:47:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T03:47:52.018-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Minhas vontades e minhas dúvidas agora são bipolares demais &amp;nbsp;Só o que não é bipolar demais é a minha ganancia por te ter. Sim, eu escolheria você. Se me dessem um último pedido, eu escolheria você. Se a vida acabasse hoje ou daqui mil anos, eu escolheria você…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autor ainda desconhecido...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-7300916911061667058?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/7300916911061667058/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/01/minhas-vontades-e-minhas-duvidas-agora.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7300916911061667058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7300916911061667058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/01/minhas-vontades-e-minhas-duvidas-agora.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-7892996941771850876</id><published>2011-01-12T01:12:00.006-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T01:21:02.638-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Eu não quero mais essa cidade! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Esse céu que só chora e esse ar com cheiro de enxofre... Esse relógio frenético!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Essas pessoas desesperadas e cegas. Incapazes de ver a beleza de todo dia. Tão preocupadas com o trabalho, o trânsito, as contas que se esquecem de amar, se esquecem de todo tipo de amor!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TS0dRdqT30I/AAAAAAAAAlU/S-caWr9MaC8/s1600/100_0630bb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="197" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TS0dRdqT30I/AAAAAAAAAlU/S-caWr9MaC8/s320/100_0630bb.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Não quero mais!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Quero respirar sal! Quero sentir apenas areia nos pés... Quero minha pele escura pra sempre, bem escura, preta! Queimada pelo sol!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Quero siris e gaivotas como bichos de estimação...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Quero que todos os meus banhos sejam de mar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Água doce só pra beber.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Quero sentir o toque suave das espumas do mar, o soco da onda que quebra na barriga...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Quero ver o sol nascer e se por quando ele bem entender.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Quero como trilha sonora o canto do mar, das sereias...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Quero me casar com Poseidon! E desde já usarei apenas roupas brancas...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Um pedaço de mim está no mar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;É só lá que sinto paz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Mar doce Lar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-7892996941771850876?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/7892996941771850876/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/01/eu-nao-quero-mais-essa-cidade-esse-ceu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7892996941771850876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7892996941771850876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2011/01/eu-nao-quero-mais-essa-cidade-esse-ceu.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TS0dRdqT30I/AAAAAAAAAlU/S-caWr9MaC8/s72-c/100_0630bb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-705311086255775514</id><published>2010-12-14T01:41:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T01:41:36.302-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Porque queima e arde...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UpfTaLp1sMA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UpfTaLp1sMA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-705311086255775514?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/705311086255775514/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/12/porque-queima-e-arde.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/705311086255775514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/705311086255775514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/12/porque-queima-e-arde.html' title='Porque queima e arde...'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4819902506271063335</id><published>2010-12-09T16:58:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T16:58:50.979-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Confusão</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Eu pensei que era mais fácil...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Sem tanta dor, sem tanto querer...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Não, querer não... Precisar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;É... Precisar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Tem um jeito de matar isso?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Uma faca? Uma espada?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;O amor? Ahá, é piada né?!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Mas, pior que o amor é a saudade...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Ah sim! Essa é muito pior!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Saudade boa? Que Mané saudade boa!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Isso não existe!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Mataria a saudade e o amor se pudesse!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Ah! Mataria sim!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;De que me serve, me diz?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;O amor é lindo, muito bonito...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Até que quando vai embora, leva um pedaço seu junto...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Pedaço esse que não se regenera mais, não se recupera, não se cura...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Aí vem quem? A maldita saudade! Criação do demônio, só pode ser...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Mas pensando melhor... Talvez o problema não seja o amor, nem a saudade...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Talvez seja a memória... Afinal se não lembrarmos, não vai doer mais!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Pronto!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Descobri a fórmula para parar de sofrer, de querer, de precisar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Apague a memória!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Isso mesmo! Apaga! Deleta! Não vai me fazer a menor falta...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Juro! Não vai!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Declaro guerra as minhas memórias!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Darei um golpe em minha própria cabeça, até acabar com todas elas!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Ei, isso pode me matar! Não não! Não quero morrer! Quero apenas matar!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Apenas matar! Apenas... Como se “apenas” amenizasse o ato de “matar”.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Ah! Por favor! Não se horrorizem! Estou matando um sentimento, não uma pessoa!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;E os sentimentos, a memória, são todos meus! Faço deles o que bem entender!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Quer saber?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Matarei todos, o amor, a saudade e as memórias! Pronto!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Não espere que eu termine essa vontade homicida sentimental com uma frase de efeito, pois não terminarei...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Estou com raiva! Muita raiva!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&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/7398440439295209164-4819902506271063335?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4819902506271063335/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/12/confusao.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4819902506271063335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4819902506271063335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/12/confusao.html' title='Confusão'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-2495903689169228932</id><published>2010-12-06T19:31:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T19:31:21.280-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Minha idéia de amor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TP1V-rGoAeI/AAAAAAAAAkw/PT8FySIvBTE/s1600/alot_like_love-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TP1V-rGoAeI/AAAAAAAAAkw/PT8FySIvBTE/s1600/alot_like_love-13.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TP1WGU-V4CI/AAAAAAAAAk0/ez6h6kHYHWw/s1600/De+repente+%25C3%25A9+amor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TP1WGU-V4CI/AAAAAAAAAk0/ez6h6kHYHWw/s1600/De+repente+%25C3%25A9+amor.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-2495903689169228932?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/2495903689169228932/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/12/minha-ideia-de-amor.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2495903689169228932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2495903689169228932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/12/minha-ideia-de-amor.html' title='Minha idéia de amor...'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TP1V-rGoAeI/AAAAAAAAAkw/PT8FySIvBTE/s72-c/alot_like_love-13.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4344662125447591667</id><published>2010-12-06T18:37:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T18:38:15.482-02:00</updated><title type='text'>ALFABETO DE HISTÓRIAS: Bálsamo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Bela boca boneca! Beijos balsâmicos, barrigas beliscadas... Balelas balbuciadas baixinho, bajulações baratas... Blá, blá, blá... Bebidas... Braços bambos... Brincadeiras bobas... Batom benzedor... Braguilha, busto bisbilhotados, bendita beleza! Bote! Bom bailado... Balanço bombástico! Bingo!&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/7398440439295209164-4344662125447591667?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4344662125447591667/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/12/alfabeto-de-historias-balsamo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4344662125447591667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4344662125447591667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/12/alfabeto-de-historias-balsamo.html' title='ALFABETO DE HISTÓRIAS: Bálsamo'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-7108280349268930718</id><published>2010-11-28T23:11:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T23:12:37.535-02:00</updated><title type='text'>ALFABETO DE HISTÓRIAS: Antagônia Amorosa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Amélia andava angustiada. Amanhã amaria alguém? Acordou amarrada á antiga antagônia amorosa: amar, abster, arremessar-se, agoniar-se. Ansiosa, amenizou a aparência amarrando azaléias azuis ao arranjo alegórico. Alegoria aquela antes alegre, agora amargurada. Andorinhas adejando, assoviavam. As asas abertas acalmavam a alienação. Aspirou ar, andou apressada. Agora arbitrou: Amaria apenas Amélia, amanhã amaria alguém.&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/7398440439295209164-7108280349268930718?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/7108280349268930718/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/11/alfabeto-de-historias-antagonia-amorosa.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7108280349268930718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7108280349268930718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/11/alfabeto-de-historias-antagonia-amorosa.html' title='ALFABETO DE HISTÓRIAS: Antagônia Amorosa'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-445799598423117874</id><published>2010-11-16T23:39:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T23:39:36.648-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TOMxRVlxqbI/AAAAAAAAAjY/vpwaFJfx3aQ/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="130" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TOMxRVlxqbI/AAAAAAAAAjY/vpwaFJfx3aQ/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TOMxxmad6vI/AAAAAAAAAjg/ozsLQH5gpwM/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="134" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TOMxxmad6vI/AAAAAAAAAjg/ozsLQH5gpwM/s320/4.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;“Sempre que me entristeço com o mundo, penso nos portões de chegada do aeroporto de Heathrow. Dizem que vivemos num mundo de ódio e ambição, mas eu não acho. Sinto que há amor em todo lugar. Nem sempre algo que valha alguma manchete, mas está sempre ali. Pais e filhos, mães e filhas, maridos e mulheres, namorados, namoradas, amigos antigos. No atentado ás Torres Gêmeas, os recados de quem estava nos aviões não foram de raiva. Eram todas mensagens de amor. Se procurar, creio que descobrirá que o amor, simplesmente, está em toda parte.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Do filme: &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;“Simplesmente amor” - 2003&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TOMxuNJGU_I/AAAAAAAAAjc/OJrYVHNMtVw/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="134" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TOMxuNJGU_I/AAAAAAAAAjc/OJrYVHNMtVw/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TOMyQjr4HnI/AAAAAAAAAjk/QPscQlVwGg0/s1600/Sem+t%25C3%25ADtulo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="135" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TOMyQjr4HnI/AAAAAAAAAjk/QPscQlVwGg0/s320/Sem+t%25C3%25ADtulo.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/7398440439295209164-445799598423117874?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/445799598423117874/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/11/sempre-que-me-entristeco-com-o-mundo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/445799598423117874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/445799598423117874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/11/sempre-que-me-entristeco-com-o-mundo.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/TOMxRVlxqbI/AAAAAAAAAjY/vpwaFJfx3aQ/s72-c/2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3534020870246919801</id><published>2010-11-16T23:04:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T23:04:21.009-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejPEVQQhOQo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-3534020870246919801?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3534020870246919801/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/11/httpwww.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3534020870246919801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3534020870246919801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/11/httpwww.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-2955752850298691377</id><published>2010-11-09T23:37:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T23:37:53.824-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Acordou buscando por oxigênio desesperadamente... Sentia os pulmões comprimidos e coração quase parado, não sabia se ainda sonhara... Tentou lenvantar-se, mas assim que colocou os pés no chão, desabou num baque surdo... A sensação do piso frio sobre a pele fervendo era boa... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;“Deus, o que aconteceu?” - Pensou assim que conseguiu organizar um pouco os pensamentos ainda confusos... Com muito esforço conseguiu levantar-se embora escorando nas paredes... Apoiou as mãos na pia pois sabia que se não se segurasse, desabaria de novo pois suas pernas tremiam e sua coluna parecia não existir... Abriu a torneira e percebeu as mão pálidas... Se em sua mão não existia cor, no seu rosto... Assustou-se ao olhar no espelho, a pele branca feito osso, os olhos vermelhos, a boca enrugada de tão seca, os cabelos desgrenhados e olheiras roxas... O espelho estava embaçado, seu corpo o embaçara... Uma única coisa era reconfortante, a certeza de que estava viva, e que aquilo tudo por mais que demorasse, iria acabar... Em algum lugar dentro do seu corpo, estava viva... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;“Podia ser pior”- disse numa voz inaudível... Jogou água no rosto e finalmente podia respirar normalmente, sentia seu corpo voltando ao seu controle pouco a pouco... Voltou a olhar seu rosto molhado no espelho e percebeu um vulto escuro refletido, ao lado esquerdo da sua imagem... Não se assustou... Por um momento ficou apenas a fitá-lo... Conhecia aquela figura de algum lugar... Um lugar distante... Dos seus sonhos talvez... Virou apenas a cabeça e esperou que o visitante dissesse a que veio...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;“Eu lhe avisei!” – Disse a cigana. “Sim avisou” – respondeu. “O que faço agora?” – perguntou a cigana “O que se deve, o que você deseja.” – Respondeu a cigana sorrindo... Dito isso a mulher de saia florida e lenço com pequenas medalhas douradas que enfeitavam a sua cabeleira espessa, entregou-lhe duas cartas de baralho...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Uma era a dama de copas... E a outra o valete de espadas... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt;"&gt;Sentiu-se sendo tragada pela escuridão... Meio segundo depois acordou buscando por oxigênio desesperadamente...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&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/7398440439295209164-2955752850298691377?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/2955752850298691377/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/11/acordou-buscando-por-oxigenio.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2955752850298691377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2955752850298691377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/11/acordou-buscando-por-oxigenio.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4159368174282518122</id><published>2010-11-09T02:18:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T02:19:07.255-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Placebo -  Running Up That Hill</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BdK9OlOzayE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BdK9OlOzayE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&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;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;"&gt;Sem Mais...&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/7398440439295209164-4159368174282518122?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4159368174282518122/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/11/placebo-running-up-that-hill.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4159368174282518122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4159368174282518122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/11/placebo-running-up-that-hill.html' title='Placebo -  Running Up That Hill'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-6492826662389462890</id><published>2010-09-21T01:10:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T23:41:01.096-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Escutei a chave girando na porta... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Quem será? Mas a essa hora? Não estou esperando ninguém... Nunca estou esperando ninguém...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;E de fato não era ninguém... A porta abriu sozinha e apenas o vento entrou...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Era apenas para me mostrar, que não há ninguém, que ninguém vem, que ninguém espera...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;... E tudo voltou a ficar silencioso de novo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Algum tempo depois eu andei até a porta e a fechei, havia apenas o som dos meus passos e da porta se fechando...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Nenhum outro som que indicasse uma alma viva ou penada... A minha alma estava inquieta, mas também estava muda, a um bom tempo, ela perdera a voz...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Me virei e vi no chão uma chave... Mas não era a chave da porta, era uma chave velha, grande, de ferro e um pouco enferrujada...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Passei um longo tempo olhando pra ela e pensado que diabos ela fazia ali... Não sei...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Voltei a ouvir o som dos meus passos quando andei até ela, peguei-a e meu coração disparou doendo no peito...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Mas o que é isso? O que significa isso?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Encostei a chave no peito e meu coração parecia que queria se juntar a ela, ele rasgava meu peito, queria sair...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Afastei rapidamente a chave do peito, jogando-a no chão, e meu coração começou a se acalmar, mas estava triste...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Olhei ao redor e notei outras chaves... Muitas delas, algumas iguais, outras diferentes...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;O que é isso, Meu Deus?!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Havia chaves no sofá, sobre a TV, na mesinha de centro, no estante de livros, sobre o tapete, pendurada nas paredes e até nas janelas e nas cortinas...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Peguei uma a uma nas mãos... E cada uma delas provocava reações em todas as partes do meu corpo... Principalmente no meu coração e na minha cabeça... Na minha mente...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Todas aquelas sensações, sentimentos e reações estavam me tirando a consciência... Entrei em êxtase... Em pânico... Em sublimação...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;De repente no meio desse turbilhão, ouço a chave girar na porta de novo... Assustada joguei as chaves no chão... Eu tremia...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Olhei para a porta mas ela não se moveu... Meu corpo começou a responder e caminhei lentamente até ela, o tempo parecia deslocado, eu ainda tremia e sentia um nó na garganta...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Com as mãos geladas abri a porta...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;... Dessa vez... Tinha alguém...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-6492826662389462890?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/6492826662389462890/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/09/escutei-chave-girando-na-porta.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6492826662389462890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6492826662389462890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/09/escutei-chave-girando-na-porta.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-389306210005250638</id><published>2010-09-09T03:04:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T23:43:28.570-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Minhas mãos suavam...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Suavam sangue...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Eu suava frio, mas meu sangue era expelido pela pele ainda quente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Eu tremia muito e mal conseguia ver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Só conseguia olhar pra dentro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Eu queria chorar mas não tinha forças...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Era apenas sangue...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Suor e sangue...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Meu corpo todo estava úmido e gelado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Eu estava de pé, mas parecia que ao mesmo tempo que eu flutuava a gravidade me puxava para baixo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Uma gravidade viva, latente, forte...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;A gravidade da realidade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Naquele momento eu entendia a real gravidade dos fatos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Eu estava sozinha e desprotegida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;E não havia nada que eu pudesse fazer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Eu tentava andar mas é como se tivesse agulhas em brasa sob meus pés...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Eu tentava sentar ao pé da cama, mas algo pressionava minha coluna para que eu ficasse ereta... Uma pesada mão de ferro não me deixava mover-me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Meus dentes rangiam e o som era insuportável...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Os meus olhos deformam tudo sobre o que pousavam, as janelas, a cama, o armário, todos os objetos, o espelho... Tudo parecia derreter na minha frente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;De tudo que eu via o que mais me dava medo era do espelho...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Não queria ver o meu rosto nem meu corpo deformado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Minhas rugas, meus olhos cansados, minha boca pálida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Meus músculos flácidos, nem meu cabelo branco, nem meu sexo morto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Derrepente o espelho começou a vir em minha direção lentamente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Como se alguém delicadamente o tirasse da parece e trazia até mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Senti pânico e um medo absurdo, não poderia suportar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Aquilo iria me destruir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Fiz uma força descomunal para fechar os olhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;E uma força maior ainda para gritar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Minha voz saiu abafada e aguda demais, nunca escutara ela assim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;E então...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Eu acordei... E as minhas mãos ainda sangravam...&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/7398440439295209164-389306210005250638?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/389306210005250638/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/09/minhas-maos-suavam.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/389306210005250638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/389306210005250638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/09/minhas-maos-suavam.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3787304355658856929</id><published>2010-07-27T01:51:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T01:51:48.687-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sei lá...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Quero me mandar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Ir um pouco mais longe...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Talvez molhar os pés no mar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Talvez um porre num bar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Qualquer coisa que não me lembre...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Qualquer lugar que não doa...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Onde eu não precise ser eu...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Pois já não sei mais quem sou...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Tem algo acontecendo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Mas não sei o que...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Já está amanhecendo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E eu não quero sair do lugar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Onde eu estou, está bom...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Pra que complicar?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sair pra dançar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Pode ser no meio da rua...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Ou pode ser no centro da lua...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Eu preciso de um segredo agora...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Não vou me desprender de mim...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Não preciso ir embora...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;E nem vou criar um motim...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;To fechada...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Num quero saber...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Nem ouvir, nem ver...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Uma dose cairia bem...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Já que pouco tenho a fazer...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Vou tirar um cochilo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Ver o sol nascer ou se por...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Se for possível talvez eu passeie...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Talvez fique, não sei...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Vou pensar no que fazer...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Tenho coisas para arrumar, dentro e fora...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Agora já tá feito, mas não é tarde demais...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Demais seria pedir perdão...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Deixa pra lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;O tempo resolve...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;O que eu não posso eu esqueço...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Todos acham que sim, mas eu sei que não...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Uma hora a coisa muda...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Enquanto isso eu observo pessoas estranhas a me olhar...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;É tudo estranho, diferente...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Não tenho medo, nem receio...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Não me preocupo, foda-se...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Gosto da minha vida como está...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Melhor assim...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Não acha?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá... &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sei lá...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/7398440439295209164-3787304355658856929?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3787304355658856929/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/07/sei-la.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3787304355658856929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3787304355658856929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/07/sei-la.html' title='Sei lá...'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-8268415406789315258</id><published>2010-06-16T01:59:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T02:00:24.160-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Analfabeto Político (Bertolt Brecht)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;O pior analfabeto é o analfabeto político.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Ele não ouve, não fala, nem participa dos acontecimentos políticos.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Ele não sabe o custo de vida, o preço do feijão, do peixe, da farinha, do aluguel, do sapato e do remédio dependem das decisões políticas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;O analfabeto político é tão burro que se orgulha e estufa o peito dizendo que odeia a política.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Não sabe o imbecil que, da sua ignorância política, nasce a prostituta, o menor abandonado, e o pior de todos os bandidos, que é o político vigarista, pilantra, corrupto e lacaio das empresas nacionais e multinacionais.&amp;nbsp;&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/7398440439295209164-8268415406789315258?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/8268415406789315258/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/06/o-analfabeto-politico-bertolt-brecht-o.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8268415406789315258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8268415406789315258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/06/o-analfabeto-politico-bertolt-brecht-o.html' title='O Analfabeto Político (Bertolt Brecht)'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-8493782294089423802</id><published>2010-05-19T01:44:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T01:45:26.971-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Ah! Aquele dia que viestes a mim! Naquela noite escura, mais escura do que todas as outras.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Se soubesses no que penso não chegarias assim tão perto.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Se soubesses o que sinto, certamente me mataria...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Ah! To por ai, tentando me encontrar, eu sai e ainda não voltei...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Mas... Será que quero voltar?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Ah! Se eu pudesse ferir mortalmente, matar de vez o que há tempos agoniza... Ah! Se pudesse te roubar! Te roubo, mas eu devolvo, logo logo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Não não me olhes assim não! Não me tire a esperança...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Não sorrias desdenhoso e infame!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Ah! Que frio!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Olha pra trás! Olha pra trás! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Sei que tá escuro! Mas eu to aqui, se você não pode me ver, pode me sentir...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;O meu corpo curvado ainda tem calor...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Há um brilho fundo nos meus olhos...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"&gt;Mas estou cansada... Me deixe dormir, ao menos um pouco... Até a dor passar... Só um pouco... Logo eu acordo... Logo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-8493782294089423802?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/8493782294089423802/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/05/ah-aquele-dia-que-viestes-mim-naquela.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8493782294089423802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8493782294089423802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/05/ah-aquele-dia-que-viestes-mim-naquela.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-237985601026195804</id><published>2010-04-19T02:01:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T02:13:51.964-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Set List do Show do Placebo - 17/04/2010 - Credicard Hall- São Paulo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 11.25pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/S8vkEi9neaI/AAAAAAAAAio/H4FMlnxrUa8/s1600/0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="210" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/S8vkEi9neaI/AAAAAAAAAio/H4FMlnxrUa8/s400/0.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;For What it's Worth&lt;br /&gt;Ashtray Heart&lt;br /&gt;Battle for the Sun&lt;br /&gt;Soul Mates&lt;br /&gt;Speak in Tongues&lt;br /&gt;Following the Cops Back Home&lt;br /&gt;Every You Every Me&lt;br /&gt;Special Needs&lt;br /&gt;Breathe Underwater&lt;br /&gt;Julien&lt;br /&gt;The Neverending Why&lt;br /&gt;Bright Lights&lt;br /&gt;Devil in the Details&lt;br /&gt;Meds&lt;br /&gt;Song to Say Goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Special K&lt;br /&gt;The Bitter End&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 11.25pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Bis:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trigger Happy&lt;br /&gt;Infra-Red&lt;br /&gt;Taste in Men&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 11.25pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 11.25pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;EU FUI, EU VI, EU TAVA LÁ!!!!!!&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/7398440439295209164-237985601026195804?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/237985601026195804/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/04/set-list-do-show-do-placebo-17042010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/237985601026195804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/237985601026195804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/04/set-list-do-show-do-placebo-17042010.html' title='Set List do Show do Placebo - 17/04/2010 - Credicard Hall- São Paulo'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/S8vkEi9neaI/AAAAAAAAAio/H4FMlnxrUa8/s72-c/0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-5504954767164702570</id><published>2010-03-12T00:07:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T00:08:28.290-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Aos cachaceiros de plantão...</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Aos cachaceiros de plantão...&lt;br /&gt;Pra curar sua paixão, beba pinga com limão;&lt;br /&gt;Pra curar sua amargura, beba pinga sem mistura;&lt;br /&gt;Contra dor de cotovelo, beba cachaça com gelo;&lt;br /&gt;Contra falta de carinho: cachaça, cerveja e vinho!&lt;br /&gt;Se brigar com a namorada, beba pinga misturada;&lt;br /&gt;Se brigar com a mulher, beba pinga na colher;&lt;br /&gt;Quem dá amor e não recebe, mistura todas e bebe;&lt;br /&gt;e se alguém te faz sofrer, beba para esquecer!!!&lt;br /&gt;Pra curar seu sofrimento, beba pinga com fermento;&lt;br /&gt;Pra esquecer um falso amor, beba pinga com licor;&lt;br /&gt;Pra acalmar seu coração, beba até cair no chão;&lt;br /&gt;Pra você ganhar no bicho, beba uma no capricho;&lt;br /&gt;Pra ganhar na loteria, beba pinga na bacia;&lt;br /&gt;Pra viver sempre feliz, beba pinga com raiz;&lt;br /&gt;Se essa vida de cão só te faz sofrer... o remédio é beber;&lt;br /&gt;Se você não tem sorte... beba pinga até a morte;&lt;br /&gt;Se nada mais tem graça, encha a cara de cachaça!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;(Autor "bêbado" desconhecido)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-5504954767164702570?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/5504954767164702570/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/03/aos-cachaceiros-de-plantao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5504954767164702570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5504954767164702570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/03/aos-cachaceiros-de-plantao.html' title='Aos cachaceiros de plantão...'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-9068188228894808212</id><published>2010-03-10T00:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T00:50:47.592-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;... Acordei de um pesadelo que durou semanas e semanas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Achei um caminho para seguir que mesmo que esteja a milhas de distância me sacudiu e me acordou. Ainda meio tonta por acordar no susto de um sonho violento eu pensei: Quem tomou as rédeas da minha vida? Mas como? Ela é minha! É a única coisa que tenho disso, pois todas as outras coisas provém dela. Quem tomou fez por egoísmo ou por amor, por vaidade ou por responsabilidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Mas não! Ela é minha! A quero de volta já!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Volto a velhos dias de batalha onde ainda era cega e insegura demais para criar uma estratégia.&amp;nbsp;Nos dias onde era muito sangue e pouca razão, muito suor e pouco pensamento.&amp;nbsp;Hoje a luta é muito mais séria e muito mais virtuosa, onde o único e valioso prêmio é a própria vida.&amp;nbsp;Volto pro campo de batalha usando com armas a inteligência e a sinceridade. Agora o sangue que quero é o da alegria e da superação. Volto com as palavras que tive medo de usar. Volto com agressividade, mas não com brutalidade. Levanto a espada da consciência, antes do grito de coragem que dá início a batalha. A armadura mais resistente é o sorriso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Dois xeque-mate, num único jogo. O ás de copas que vence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Proteja o rei, esconda as cartas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Vença!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-9068188228894808212?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/9068188228894808212/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/9068188228894808212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/9068188228894808212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3865452371053667112</id><published>2010-03-07T00:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T00:06:33.309-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Vi a vida passando...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Ali, pela janela... Olhava pra mim até se esconder atrás do poste...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Sem eira nem beira...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Esboçava um sorriso irônico e um brilho de desafio nos olhos...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Lá estava ela, bela e livre...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Mas ela se foi e parecia não se importar em me deixar olhando pra ela...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Antes de partir acenou com a cabeça dizendo sim...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Sim?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Pra que?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Pra onde foi?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Porque foi?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Queria lhe perguntar o que estava fazendo ali, porque não estava dentro de mim...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Porque tão longe...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Eu gritei para ela voltar, mas não me ouviu, ou não quis ouvir...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Sentei-me ao meio fio e lá observei toda aquela escuridão...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Ás vezes ouvia um ruído e pensava ser a vida que voltada...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Mas não, não era...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Era um gato vadio, ou um pássaro solitário que passava por ali...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Queria perguntar o porquê do vazio do cérebro, do peito, das pernas, do sexo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Porque ainda tenho a sensação daquele dia?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Daqueles dias...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Porque eu queria poder voltar, só pra poder sentir de novo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Pra poder ser real de novo...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Voltar para momentos onde tudo estava em paz, tudo estava em seu lugar e nada podia me matar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&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/7398440439295209164-3865452371053667112?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3865452371053667112/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/03/vi-vida-passando.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3865452371053667112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3865452371053667112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/03/vi-vida-passando.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-2499127821981071220</id><published>2010-03-05T00:06:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T00:08:14.633-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Olha bem, já passamos a chave&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém sai, ninguém abre&lt;br /&gt;Eu te sobro e você não me cabe&lt;br /&gt;Olha bem, nossos passos maldados&lt;br /&gt;Nosso peito acuado&lt;br /&gt;Hoje quer infartar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha bem, a tristeza é agora&lt;br /&gt;Um dia o amor perde a hora&lt;br /&gt;Ontem ele deu, hoje ele esmola&lt;br /&gt;Olha bem nossas bocas malditas&lt;br /&gt;Cospem fogo e saliva&lt;br /&gt;Ai de quem se atrever a calar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ar, quero ar pra beber!&lt;br /&gt;Quero sangue correndo, pulsando, fervendo&lt;br /&gt;E queimando você&lt;br /&gt;Mais, quero mais é te perder!&lt;br /&gt;Que uma onda te leve, te afogue e te entregue a quem for&lt;br /&gt;Mas te faça desaparecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha só, vou-me embora pra não ficar pior&lt;br /&gt;Os meus restos embrulhe, dê um nó&lt;br /&gt;Queime tudo ou deixe virar pó&lt;br /&gt;Ouça bem o que eu falo, abra a porta&lt;br /&gt;Água na seca não brota&lt;br /&gt;Dos nossos olhos transborda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entenda, sim, não há amor quando há nada&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém perdeu se empata&lt;br /&gt;Tentemos nova tacada&lt;br /&gt;Olha que horror!&lt;br /&gt;Eu que já fui sua amiga&lt;br /&gt;Hoje sou a bandida&lt;br /&gt;Que não lhe quer nem roubar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ar, quero ar pra beber!&lt;br /&gt;Quero sangue correndo, pulsando, fervendo&lt;br /&gt;E queimando você&lt;br /&gt;Mais, quero mais é te perder!&lt;br /&gt;Que uma onda te leve, te afogue e te entregue a quem for&lt;br /&gt;Mas te faça desaparecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desapareça&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Isabella Taviani - Quero mais é te perder&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/7398440439295209164-2499127821981071220?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/2499127821981071220/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/03/olha-bem-ja-passamos-chave-ninguem-sai.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2499127821981071220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2499127821981071220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/03/olha-bem-ja-passamos-chave-ninguem-sai.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-42527297398460084</id><published>2010-03-02T15:40:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T15:43:11.624-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Quando rondas o leito e os objetos da casa, sigo-te, mas não te sigo aos lugares onde tu,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;cheio de sagacidade pretendes levar-me. Se tu te transformasses em peixe-lua eu te abriria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;com uma faca, porque sou homem, porque não sou nada além disso, um homem, mais homem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;que Adão e quero que tu sejas ainda mais homem do que eu. Tão homem que não se ouça o ruído nas ramagens quando tu passares. Mas tu não és homem. Se eu não tivesse essa flauta tu fugirias para a lua, para a lua coberta de tecidos rendados e gotas de sangue de mulher."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;O Público - Federico Garcia Lorca&lt;/span&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/7398440439295209164-42527297398460084?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/42527297398460084/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/03/quando-rondas-o-leito-e-os-objetos-da.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/42527297398460084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/42527297398460084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/03/quando-rondas-o-leito-e-os-objetos-da.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-2198721468867491454</id><published>2010-02-19T17:53:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T17:53:50.729-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sexo Frágil? Tenta a sorte...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WMKmQmkJ9gg&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WMKmQmkJ9gg&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-2198721468867491454?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/2198721468867491454/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/02/sexo-fragil-tenta-sorte.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2198721468867491454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2198721468867491454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/02/sexo-fragil-tenta-sorte.html' title='Sexo Frágil? Tenta a sorte...'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3405437610385137017</id><published>2010-02-19T01:24:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T01:33:08.146-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/S34F8SnYYKI/AAAAAAAAAhw/tXNc9eRy1q0/s1600-h/C%C3%B3pia+de+C%C3%B3pia+de+8+035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/S34F8SnYYKI/AAAAAAAAAhw/tXNc9eRy1q0/s320/C%C3%B3pia+de+C%C3%B3pia+de+8+035.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;(...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Eu sou baranga mas sei o que pode dar uma ice-kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;sou da madruga mas gosto de ser bem tratada de manhã&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;eu topo tudo mas também tenho ponto fraco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;uso short curto mas não tenho menos segredo por isso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;sei quando fui amada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;conheço a vergonha de quem me ama (...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Porcas Borboletas - Super Herói Playboy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&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/7398440439295209164-3405437610385137017?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3405437610385137017/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post_4491.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3405437610385137017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3405437610385137017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post_4491.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/S34F8SnYYKI/AAAAAAAAAhw/tXNc9eRy1q0/s72-c/C%C3%B3pia+de+C%C3%B3pia+de+8+035.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3593047601046251947</id><published>2010-02-03T01:39:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T01:39:36.402-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Numa noite dessas de verão, acordei quase no escuro&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;O corpo torto, suado e quase nu&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Mais uma vez, olhei os desenhos que a luz da rua, que batia na janela e batia na parede&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Era sempre o mesmo desenho, no mesmo lugar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Na mesma hora&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Levantei e olhei para as paredes e o tetos aqueles desenhos tão particulares&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ao me ajoelhar na frente da janela vi as luzes da cidade brilhantes e mudas, assim como aquele quarto&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Mas eu ouvia sim, o som do sono, do cansaço&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Olhava e sentia vida lá fora&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Uma vida que estava longe de mim&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Que eu não podia tocar, nem estar perto&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Era uma turbulência de silêncio, de urgência&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Eu apenas podia ficar presa dentro de mim, como sempre estive&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Podia ver, sentir e ouvir, mas não podia estar lá&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Junto da vida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ah! Se eu pudesse voar! Tão longe! Tão alto!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sentia o corpo perder calor mas a cabeça continuava quente&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Se ao menos eu pudesse dormir!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;A solidão me ajudava a pensar naquele mundo imenso, bonito e cruel lá fora&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Saudade eu também sentia, talvez do que não vivi&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Medo eu também sentia e sobretudo, amor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Naquela noite, naquela janela eu podia ver, sentir e ouvir&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Mas não podia tocar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Nem viver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-3593047601046251947?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3593047601046251947/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/02/numa-noite-dessas-de-verao-acordei.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3593047601046251947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3593047601046251947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/02/numa-noite-dessas-de-verao-acordei.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-9215273173486705512</id><published>2010-02-03T01:11:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T01:12:14.856-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;... Crua, nua, parada, estagnada&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;e sem razão.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Com a sensação de estar indo na contramão.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sem pode viver por mim&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sem ter por onde ir&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sair da inércia do ser frio&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Por um fio a consciência do estar aqui&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Passeiam palavras não ditas&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Feridas muito antigas para se curar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;A coragem que falta para arriscar&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tão parada quanto a madrugada&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;E já que tão magoada a alma está&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Pra que continuar?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tão viciada quanto as cartas&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Pra que doer?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;As cartas não mentem&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tão presa quanto as verdades&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tão nula quanto o zero&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Crua e nua quanto a lua pregada no céu&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tão estagnada quanto uma rocha&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Um dos piores venenos, dos piores males:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;A covardia!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="right" style="text-align:right"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;01/02/10&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-9215273173486705512?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/9215273173486705512/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/9215273173486705512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/9215273173486705512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4580604086531698082</id><published>2009-12-08T13:37:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T13:38:19.580-02:00</updated><title type='text'>O Começo pelo meio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laços e traços e amassos que se entrelaçam e amarram os pulsos de quem já amou e não ama mais.&lt;br /&gt;O pulso o sulco e o sumo do gozo.&lt;br /&gt;O gozo do corpo esperançoso.&lt;br /&gt;Espera no ranço dos dias que algo exploda.&lt;br /&gt;E explodindo vai caindo e subindo pelo beiral.&lt;br /&gt;Portas e janelas abertas, deixam espertas as chagas do meu coração.&lt;br /&gt;Um coração seco, oco, toco é o que resta.&lt;br /&gt;Resta nas lembranças de misérias, mazelas do passado e do futuro.&lt;br /&gt;Futuro inoportuno, instigante.&lt;br /&gt;Instigantes são suas palavras mastigadas, rasgadas e cuspidas dentro de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Dentro de mim ficam farpas de amor e sexo.&lt;br /&gt;Sexo esse não frágil, mas ágil, volátil.&lt;br /&gt;Amor esse calado, amargurado e ao teu lado.&lt;br /&gt;Lado esse que ferve, emerge, sobrevive e vive.&lt;br /&gt;A morte toma porte de arma.&lt;br /&gt;Arma e desarma a bomba relógio.&lt;br /&gt;Relógio do ócio, do traço, do laço, aço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;08/12/09&lt;br /&gt;02:15h&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/7398440439295209164-4580604086531698082?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4580604086531698082/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/12/o-comeco-pelo-meio.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4580604086531698082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4580604086531698082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/12/o-comeco-pelo-meio.html' title='O Começo pelo meio'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-708314262528847515</id><published>2009-12-06T23:30:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T23:31:06.152-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Apenas... Uma noite...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Abraços e abraços que não chegam a acontecer...&lt;br /&gt;E quando acontecem se desfazem como a chuva... E na chuva...&lt;br /&gt;Beijos e beijos esquecidos e noites de sonho...&lt;br /&gt;Por um tempo, tudo faz sentido... Mas logo a conexão se perde e a vida volta ao tom cinza de antes...&lt;br /&gt;Num mundo onde as coisas começam a acontecer, a dor mais forte volta a se repetir...&lt;br /&gt;Por quanto mais isso vai se arrastar?&lt;br /&gt;Esperar... Não... Não mais...&lt;br /&gt;Apenas o sossego de uma noite nos braços...&lt;br /&gt;E os abraços e os sussurros... Onde estão?&lt;br /&gt;Apenas... Uma noite...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-708314262528847515?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/708314262528847515/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/12/apenas-uma-noite.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/708314262528847515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/708314262528847515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/12/apenas-uma-noite.html' title='Apenas... Uma noite...'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-8899358812372290332</id><published>2009-12-06T22:19:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T22:22:52.821-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eu sei...&lt;br /&gt;E sei que não era pra eu ser assim&lt;br /&gt;que eu devia tomar as doses nas horas certas&lt;br /&gt;eu sei que eu devia dormir boas noites de sono&lt;br /&gt;e que eu devia fumar menos&lt;br /&gt;escovar os dentes com pastas pra gengivas sensíveis&lt;br /&gt;e perambular menos na rua quando todo mundo já foi&lt;br /&gt;e não me jogar tanto quando alguém me abre os braços&lt;br /&gt;e beber menos&lt;br /&gt;e amar menos&lt;br /&gt;eu devia parar e pensar menos&lt;br /&gt;eu sei que eu devia pensar menos&lt;br /&gt;e falar menos&lt;br /&gt;eu sei que eu devia falar menos pra viver mais&lt;br /&gt;eu sei que eu devia viver menos&lt;br /&gt;mas eu não sei viver menos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porcas Borboletas- Menos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://compactorec.podomatic.com/archive/rss2.xml"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;http://compactorec.podomatic.com/archive/rss2.xml&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-8899358812372290332?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/8899358812372290332/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/12/eu-sei.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8899358812372290332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8899358812372290332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/12/eu-sei.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-6082510010572052093</id><published>2009-12-04T01:25:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T01:33:38.500-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A lua com seu brilho fosco naquela noite...&lt;br /&gt;Parecia que expandia o olho que olhava...&lt;br /&gt;Era fosco mas era bonito...&lt;br /&gt;Seu jeito tosco é de admirar...&lt;br /&gt;Admirada ficaria eu, se não gostasse...&lt;br /&gt;Os olhos? Eu já não podia ver...&lt;br /&gt;Estava quente... e uma nuvem vermelha se aproximava...&lt;br /&gt;Será o fim do mundo?&lt;br /&gt;Será o fim do meu mundo?&lt;br /&gt;Tens uma beleza guardada dentro do corpo...&lt;br /&gt;Um desejo contido de ver a pele sobre a luz dessa lua...&lt;br /&gt;Minha pele? Sua pele?&lt;br /&gt;Nesse mundo onde tudo pode ser dito sem que os olhos denunciem a verdade...&lt;br /&gt;Vejo algo não novo acontecer...&lt;br /&gt;Eu não queria...&lt;br /&gt;Mas deixo entrar...&lt;br /&gt;E vamos para trás do mesmo véu de nuvens que a lua se esconde nesse exato momento...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;03/12/09&lt;br /&gt;03:25h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-6082510010572052093?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/6082510010572052093/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/12/lua-com-seu-brilho-fosco-naquela-noite.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6082510010572052093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6082510010572052093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/12/lua-com-seu-brilho-fosco-naquela-noite.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4528118034796466838</id><published>2009-12-04T01:18:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T01:25:24.388-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;INVERSO...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOÇA PERNAS DE PINÇA&lt;br /&gt;ALTA CORPO DE LANÇA&lt;br /&gt;MAGRA&lt;br /&gt;OLHOS DE CORÇA&lt;br /&gt;LEVE&lt;br /&gt;TODA CORTIÇA&lt;br /&gt;PASSA&lt;br /&gt;COMO QUE NUA&lt;br /&gt;CALMA&lt;br /&gt;FINGE QUE VOA&lt;br /&gt;BRASA&lt;br /&gt;CHAMA NA AREIA&lt;br /&gt;BELA COMO EU QUERIA&lt;br /&gt;MAGRA, LEVE, CALMA&lt;br /&gt;TODA ELA BELA&lt;br /&gt;TUDO NELA CHAMA&lt;br /&gt;SEGUE ENQUANTO SUSPIRO&lt;br /&gt;TODA COR DE TEMPERO&lt;br /&gt;CHEIRA UM CHEIRO TÃO RARO&lt;br /&gt;CLARA CURA O ESCURO&lt;br /&gt;ELA BRAÇOS DE LINHA&lt;br /&gt;DENGO CHEIO DE MANHA&lt;br /&gt;DURMO E PEÇO QUE VENHA&lt;br /&gt;ACORDO E SONHO QUE É MINHA&lt;br /&gt;MAGRA, LEVE, CALMA TODA ELA BELA&lt;br /&gt;TUDO NELA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lenine - Magra&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-4528118034796466838?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4528118034796466838/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/12/inverso.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4528118034796466838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4528118034796466838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/12/inverso.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-5469785348644628778</id><published>2009-10-22T13:02:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T13:03:11.522-02:00</updated><title type='text'>BALELA</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pessoas: Porque você não faz uma PROGRESSIVA no cabelo? Porque você não ouve PAGODE? Porque você não para de FUMAR? Porque você não vai para a IGREJA? Porque você se VESTE ASSIM? Porque você não usa SALTO? Porque você não usa MAQUIAGEM? Eu pensei que você fosse SAPATÃO Eu pensei que você fosse METIDA! Você é MACUMBEIRA? Mas você acredita em DEUS? Você usa DROGAS? Você precisa largar desse CARA! Você precisa me LIGAR, me ABRAÇAR, me BEIJAR! Você ficou com OUTRO cara? Você é ASSIM! Você é ASSADO! Você é uma VAGABUNDA, SAFADA! Você não vai para o CÉU! Papai do céu não vai gostar de VOCÊ!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha resposta: Porque VOCÊS não olham para o PRÓPRIO UMBIGO? Eu pensei que VOCÊS soubessem que JULGAR é muito feio. Vocês são HIPÓCRITAS! Vocês PAGAM as minhas contas? Vocês precisam CUIDAR da vida de vocês. Eu CUIDO da minha, eu cuido com o CORAÇÃO!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-5469785348644628778?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/5469785348644628778/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/10/balela.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5469785348644628778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5469785348644628778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/10/balela.html' title='BALELA'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-875336852561276699</id><published>2009-10-08T00:20:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T00:24:24.808-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Devido aos últimos acontecimentos... Preciso postar essa música...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O cara mais underground que eu conheço é o diabo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que no inferno toca cover das canções celestiais&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com sua banda formada só por anjos decaídosa &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A platéia pega fogo quando rolam os festivais&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Enquanto isso Deus brinca de gangorra no playgrounddo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No céu com santos que já foram homens de pecado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Derrepente os santos falam "toca Deus um som maneiro"e Deus fala "aguenta vou rolar um som pesado"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A banda cover do diabo acho que já tá por fora&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O mercado tá de olho é no som que Deus criou&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com trombetas distorcidas e harpas envenenadaso &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mundo inteiro vai pirar com o heavy metal do Senhor.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AMÉM!!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Zeca Baleiro - Heavy metal do Senhor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-875336852561276699?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/875336852561276699/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/10/devido-aos-ultimos-acontecimentos.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/875336852561276699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/875336852561276699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/10/devido-aos-ultimos-acontecimentos.html' title='Devido aos últimos acontecimentos... Preciso postar essa música...'/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-2554239314840984834</id><published>2009-09-26T00:37:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T00:43:11.894-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O momento que estamos juntos parece interminável...&lt;br /&gt;Nossos corpos estão tão unidos que posso sentir as batidas do seu coração.&lt;br /&gt;Nossa respiração confunde-se com a do outro...&lt;br /&gt;Nosso movimentos são sincronizados... Indo e voltando... Para frente e para trás...&lt;br /&gt;Ás vezes para, e então, quando nos cansamos da mesma posição, nos esforçamos para mudar, mesmo que seja por pouco tempo.&lt;br /&gt;O suor de nossos corpos começa a fluir... Sem nada que possamos fazer...&lt;br /&gt;Um calor enorme parece que nos fará desmaiar...&lt;br /&gt;Uma força ainda maior nos faz ficar ainda mais colados um ao outro e, quando não aguentamos mais segurar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma voz ecoa nos nossos ouvidos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Estação Sé, desembarque pelo lado esquerdo do trem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Autor gênio desconhecido)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-2554239314840984834?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/2554239314840984834/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-momento-que-estamos-juntos-parece.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2554239314840984834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2554239314840984834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-momento-que-estamos-juntos-parece.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-5850417893112904683</id><published>2009-09-26T00:34:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T00:35:15.341-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Um pouco de tormenta é sempre bom...&lt;br /&gt;Sinto um vento que passa pela orelha e reverbera na barriga...&lt;br /&gt;O corpo vai gelando, gelando, mas logo vem o cobertor... macio... Quente... Humano... Homem...&lt;br /&gt;Olhava a janela que constratava com a cor pálida e branca do céu...&lt;br /&gt;A respiração era serena... Sono de criança...&lt;br /&gt;O tempo... Que tempo? Não havia tempo... Nem relógio... Nem sol se indo...&lt;br /&gt;A chuva caia fina e barulhenta...&lt;br /&gt;Tudo parecia parado e calmo...&lt;br /&gt;Andava na chuva e olhava os meus pés desenhando a água da calçada...&lt;br /&gt;Um cão me olhou me dizendo bom dia...&lt;br /&gt;Com a velha e costumeira sensação de irrealidade sublime, meu dia havia começado no meio da tarde, quase noite...&lt;br /&gt;As pessoas me olhavam, mas não era a mim que viam...&lt;br /&gt;Eu só queria estar ali parada, apenas a olhar e a olhar...&lt;br /&gt;Passado e futuro se misturam e já não sei mais quem é quem...&lt;br /&gt;Eu continuo aqui a pensar quando é que os sonhos se tornam realidade se já não se sabe muito bem com o que sonhar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-5850417893112904683?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/5850417893112904683/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/09/um-pouco-de-tormenta-e-sempre-bom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5850417893112904683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5850417893112904683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/09/um-pouco-de-tormenta-e-sempre-bom.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-2095843804908824065</id><published>2009-09-25T00:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T00:47:09.304-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/Srw8UuXUzoI/AAAAAAAAAgI/wFM6L8qf8co/s1600-h/danca7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385245581169184386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 301px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/Srw8UuXUzoI/AAAAAAAAAgI/wFM6L8qf8co/s320/danca7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Já falei tantas vezes do verde nos teus olhos Todos os sentimentos lhe tocam a alma, alegria ou tristeza &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Se espalhando no campo, no canto, no gesto, no sonho, na vida &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas agora é o balanço, essa dança nos toma, esse som nos abraça, meu amor &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O teu corpo moreno vai abrindo caminhos, acelera meu peito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E nem acredito no sonho que vejo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E seguimos dançando o balanço malandro, e tudo rodando &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Parece que o mundo foi feito pra nós nesse som que nos toca &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me abraça, me aperta, me prende em tuas pernas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me prende, me força, me roda, me encanta, me enfeita num beijo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me abraça, me aperta, me prende em tuas pernas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me prende, me força, me roda, me encanta, me enfeita num beijo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pôr do sol e aurora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Norte, sul, leste, oeste Lua, nuvens, estrelas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A banda toca, parece magia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E é pura beleza, essa música sente, parece que a gente &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Se enrola a corrente e então, de repente, você tem a mim &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me abraça, me aperta, me prende em tuas pernas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me prende, me força, me roda, me encanta, me enfeita num beijo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me abraça, me aperta, me prende em tuas pernas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me prende, me força, me roda, me encanta, me enfeita num beijo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Já falei tantas vezes do verde nos teus olhos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Todos os sentimentos lhe tocam a alma, alegria ou tristeza &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Se espalhando no campo, no canto, no gesto, no sonho, na vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas agora é o balanço, essa dança nos toma, você tem a mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A Festa - Maria Rita (Milton Nascimento&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/7398440439295209164-2095843804908824065?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/2095843804908824065/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/09/ja-falei-tantas-vezes-do-verde-nos-teus.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2095843804908824065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2095843804908824065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/09/ja-falei-tantas-vezes-do-verde-nos-teus.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/Srw8UuXUzoI/AAAAAAAAAgI/wFM6L8qf8co/s72-c/danca7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3584159345274829400</id><published>2009-09-17T00:45:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T00:45:41.615-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sinto um ar gelado na boca do estômago...&lt;br /&gt;A sensação de... O que é mesmo que se passa?&lt;br /&gt;O olhar e o sorriso sem fim...&lt;br /&gt;Era tudo muito alto...&lt;br /&gt;Estava esquentando a cada passo...&lt;br /&gt;O que eu posso dizer...&lt;br /&gt;Me liga?&lt;br /&gt;Ouça... Lembre-se apenas...&lt;br /&gt;Tinha algo infinito em ti, olhos sem côncavo...&lt;br /&gt;Algo insano e até ancestral...&lt;br /&gt;Leve... Intenso...&lt;br /&gt;Vem, tire-me daqui, leve-me embora...&lt;br /&gt;Faça o que você prometeu...&lt;br /&gt;O que eu posso dizer...&lt;br /&gt;Fala comigo?&lt;br /&gt;To angustiada na frente desse computador...&lt;br /&gt;Há dias me sinto frenética...&lt;br /&gt;Êxtase...&lt;br /&gt;Esse silêncio corrói meu cérebro...&lt;br /&gt;Aqui está frio...&lt;br /&gt;Vem...&lt;br /&gt;Olha pra mim e diz ao contrário...&lt;br /&gt;Diz...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Se tu te transformasse em peixe-lua eu te abriria com uma faca...” - Lorca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-3584159345274829400?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3584159345274829400/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/09/sinto-um-ar-gelado-na-boca-do-estomago.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3584159345274829400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3584159345274829400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/09/sinto-um-ar-gelado-na-boca-do-estomago.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-5332426835521297478</id><published>2009-09-14T12:59:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T13:00:51.311-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;... Começou com aprendendo para conseguir algo dos sonhos... Sono pra agüentar o que viria quando o sol caísse... E então, fazer aquilo que mais se ama, aquilo que traz o ar que se respira... Depois o combustível... Aquilo que repõe energia e traz uma imensa alegria... Com pessoas pra lá de especiais... Alto muito alto... Luz muita luz... Pessoas que queria ver, que queria muito ver... Festa, muita festa, vaga-lumes seguros pelos dedos, muita bobagem e gargalhadas saindo pela boca, debaixo do céu nublado e circundado de altos prédios que tinham a face da cidade... Oi! Que bom que te encontrei... Vermelhas... Ava Adore e outras... Olhos sem côncavo... Alma misteriosa e tão inquieta como a que conheço bem... Misto e chocolate quente antes de dormir e mais conversas, filosofias de vida... Dia seguinte... Ressaca... Mas com muita alegria... Sono... Ver a vida, a minha vida, onde eu queria estar e ou eu vou estar... E onde eu sempre estarei... Amigos, mais que amigo, a família... Mais bobagens e mais risos... Sono... A alegria de ver amigos queridos e um pouco afastados... Guerra... A alegria de ver a pessoa do coração... A alegria e a emoção de ver tanta força, tanta energia, tanta vontade, tanta determinação e segurança... O abraço... O cheiro... O passeio... O presente... Mais gente querida... Chuva e finalmente... O sono outra vez... A vida vale a pena? Ôh, se vale!!! Vivacidade, Viva, Viver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-5332426835521297478?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/5332426835521297478/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5332426835521297478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5332426835521297478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-6980389932676700548</id><published>2009-08-31T00:01:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T00:06:16.345-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Era uma vez... Um lago que ficava aqui perto... Vários pássaros voavam por lá... Um dia esses pássaros pousaram no lago e a temperatura baixou derrepente e o lago congelou... Os passáros levantaram voo e levaram consigo o lago que dizem hoje estar em algum lugar da Georgia."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Do filme: "Tomates verdes fritos"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Towanda!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-6980389932676700548?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/6980389932676700548/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/08/era-uma-vez.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6980389932676700548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6980389932676700548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/08/era-uma-vez.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3465309954688186794</id><published>2009-08-27T00:05:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T00:07:21.172-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eu acho que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tenho certeza daquilo que eu quero agora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Daquilo que mando embora,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Daquilo que me demora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eu acho que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tenho certeza daquilo que me conforma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Daquilo que quero entender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E não acomodar com o que incomoda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não acomodar com o que incomoda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E quando eu vou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É quando eu acho que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Onde é que eu tô&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É pouco e tanto faz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seja o que for,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seja o que surge e some&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seja o que consome mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seja o que consome mas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Faz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E a historia que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nem passou por nós&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Direito ainda,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pr'onde é que foi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Criado Mudo - O Teatro Mágico &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;" A inconstância"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-3465309954688186794?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3465309954688186794/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/08/eu-acho-que-tenho-certeza-daquilo-que.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3465309954688186794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3465309954688186794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/08/eu-acho-que-tenho-certeza-daquilo-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3588188398526363808</id><published>2009-08-26T14:33:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T00:08:04.758-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olha...&lt;br /&gt;Será que ela é moça&lt;br /&gt;Será que ela é triste&lt;br /&gt;Será que é o contrário&lt;br /&gt;Será que é pintura&lt;br /&gt;O rosto da atriz&lt;br /&gt;Se ela dança no sétimo céu&lt;br /&gt;Se ela acredita que é outro país&lt;br /&gt;E se ela só decora o seu papel&lt;br /&gt;E se eu pudesse entrar na sua vida&lt;br /&gt;Olha...&lt;br /&gt;Será que ela é de louça&lt;br /&gt;Será que é de éter&lt;br /&gt;Será que é loucura&lt;br /&gt;Será que é cenário&lt;br /&gt;A casa da atriz&lt;br /&gt;Se ela mora num arranha-céu&lt;br /&gt;E se as paredes são feitas de giz&lt;br /&gt;E se ela chora num quarto de hotel&lt;br /&gt;E se eu pudesse entrar na sua vida&lt;br /&gt;Sim, me leva pra sempre, Beatriz&lt;br /&gt;Me ensina a não andar com os pés no chão&lt;br /&gt;Para sempre é sempre por um triz&lt;br /&gt;Aí, diz quantos desastres tem na minha mão&lt;br /&gt;Diz se é perigoso a gente ser feliz&lt;br /&gt;Olha...&lt;br /&gt;Será que é uma estrela&lt;br /&gt;Será que é mentira&lt;br /&gt;Será que é comédia&lt;br /&gt;Será que é divina&lt;br /&gt;A vida da atriz&lt;br /&gt;Se ela um dia despencar do céu&lt;br /&gt;E se os pagantes exigirem bis&lt;br /&gt;E se o arcanjo passar o chapéu&lt;br /&gt;E se eu pudesse entrar na sua vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beatriz -Edu Lobo/Chico Buarque&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A todas as atrizes que interpretam atrizes&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-3588188398526363808?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3588188398526363808/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/08/olha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3588188398526363808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3588188398526363808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/08/olha.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-6368619456323519201</id><published>2009-08-26T14:31:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T00:08:17.714-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hoje eu levantei com sono com vontade de brigar&lt;br /&gt;Eu tô maneiro pra bater pra revidar provocação&lt;br /&gt;Olhei no espelho meu cabelo e tudo fora do lugar&lt;br /&gt;Vê se não enche não me encosta&lt;br /&gt;Tô bravo que nem leão&lt;br /&gt;E não pise no meu calo que eu te entorno feito água&lt;br /&gt;E te jogo pelo ralo&lt;br /&gt;Hoje você deu azar&lt;br /&gt;De que vale seu cabelo liso e as idéias enroladas&lt;br /&gt;Dentro da sua cabeça&lt;br /&gt;Hoje eu vou mudar o teu destino&lt;br /&gt;Te passar num pente fino&lt;br /&gt;Então desfaça sua trança&lt;br /&gt;Eu que sou tão inconstante&lt;br /&gt;E você tão permanente&lt;br /&gt;Com a gente tudo enrolado&lt;br /&gt;Não adianta creme rinse&lt;br /&gt;Corta as pontas da sua mágoa&lt;br /&gt;Que hoje eu tô meio implicante&lt;br /&gt;Hoje você deu azar&lt;br /&gt;De que vale seu cabelo liso e as idéias enroladas&lt;br /&gt;Dentro da sua cabeça&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Implicante - Ana Carolina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-6368619456323519201?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/6368619456323519201/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/08/hoje-eu-levantei-com-sono-com-vontade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6368619456323519201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6368619456323519201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/08/hoje-eu-levantei-com-sono-com-vontade.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-6203087861938886379</id><published>2009-08-21T00:44:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T00:44:57.948-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dos amores...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Amores frios, quentes...&lt;br /&gt;Amores de fim de semana...&lt;br /&gt;Amores pra vida inteira...&lt;br /&gt;Amores rasgados...&lt;br /&gt;Amores machucados...&lt;br /&gt;Amores intensos...&lt;br /&gt;Amores rasos...&lt;br /&gt;Amores duvidosos...&lt;br /&gt;Amores tempestuosos...&lt;br /&gt;Amores destemperados...&lt;br /&gt;Amores agridoces...&lt;br /&gt;Amores gritados...&lt;br /&gt;Amores contidos...&lt;br /&gt;Amores com sorrisos e com choro...&lt;br /&gt;Amores com razão e sem razão...&lt;br /&gt;Amores com pele e sem pele...&lt;br /&gt;Amores com sangue e sem respiração...&lt;br /&gt;Amores com o coração e sem o coração...&lt;br /&gt;Amores sem controle...&lt;br /&gt;Todos os amores...&lt;br /&gt;E aqueles que não vivi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-6203087861938886379?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/6203087861938886379/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/08/dos-amores.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6203087861938886379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6203087861938886379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/08/dos-amores.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1416228381321225177</id><published>2009-07-23T00:34:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T00:39:25.009-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SÉRIE: Cancelado!&lt;/strong&gt; (Peça de George Vilches inspirada nas obras de Pedro Almodóvar)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lindo, e eu me sinto enfeitiçada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Correndo perigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seu olhar é simplesmente lindo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas também não diz mais nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Menino bonito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E então quero olhar você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E depois ir embora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sem dizer o porquê&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eu sou cigana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Basta olhar pra você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Rita Lee - Menino Bonito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olhares...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-1416228381321225177?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1416228381321225177/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/07/serie-cancelado-peca-de-george-vilches.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1416228381321225177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1416228381321225177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/07/serie-cancelado-peca-de-george-vilches.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-978445819069372108</id><published>2009-07-22T23:30:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T00:37:26.582-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SÉRIE: Cancelado!&lt;/strong&gt; (Peça de George Vilches inspirada nas obras de Pedro Almodóvar)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sexo é integração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não é abuso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não é serviço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seu corpo forte e bonito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não é só por isso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pré-requisito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pra minha satisfação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pode ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pode ser bom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E pode ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pode ser não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Carinho é sensação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não é capricho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nem desperdício&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;mas suas mãos de veludo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;nem sempre dizem tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Que meu corpo quer saber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pode ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pode ser bom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E pode ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pode ser não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quando o sexo acaba tudo desaba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É uma questão de construção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E o que pode ser bom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Que pode ser bom, sim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Às vezes pode ser que não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Zélia Duncan - Sexo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Atmosfera...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-978445819069372108?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/978445819069372108/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/07/sexo-e-integracao-nao-e-abuso-nao-e.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/978445819069372108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/978445819069372108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/07/sexo-e-integracao-nao-e-abuso-nao-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3669054257522234878</id><published>2009-06-30T00:26:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T00:28:01.899-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As pessoas morrem ou simplesmente desaparecem...&lt;br /&gt;Fingem que morre, se escondem da realidade...&lt;br /&gt;Sendo que ela está bem diante dos seus olhos...&lt;br /&gt;Na rua, no caminho do carro, na tela do computador...&lt;br /&gt;Porque se escondeu?&lt;br /&gt;Porque sumiu?&lt;br /&gt;Porque morreu?&lt;br /&gt;Porque morreu pra mim?&lt;br /&gt;Porque quis morrer no desaparecer?&lt;br /&gt;As pessoas se escondem do que não entendem...&lt;br /&gt;Do que sentem e do que amam...&lt;br /&gt;O medo é traiçoeiro e perigoso...&lt;br /&gt;Morrem!&lt;br /&gt;Todos morrem um pouco a cada segundo que passa...&lt;br /&gt;Uns morrem e outros se matam...&lt;br /&gt;A diferença entre os dois?&lt;br /&gt;O morrer significa que você viveu...&lt;br /&gt;Se se matam significa que desperdiçou...&lt;br /&gt;Pra você...&lt;br /&gt;Bom suicídio...&lt;br /&gt;Te vejo daqui muitos anos...&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/7398440439295209164-3669054257522234878?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3669054257522234878/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/06/as-pessoas-morrem-ou-simplesmente.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3669054257522234878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3669054257522234878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/06/as-pessoas-morrem-ou-simplesmente.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-487833463484083127</id><published>2009-06-20T02:19:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T02:21:51.634-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O Coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulsa, pulsa, pulsa... Para...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um coração amargo para se degustar&lt;br /&gt;Um coração possivelmente morto&lt;br /&gt;Já não bate, “já não mais, amor”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Farpas, feridas e estacas lapidam o coração ainda pulsante&lt;br /&gt;Moldam aquele coração jovem e inocente&lt;br /&gt;Aquele coração maleável e intocado, já não existe mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As estacas foram tantas que o transformaram em diamante&lt;br /&gt;Tão duro e tão lindo como jamais se viu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brilha toda a sua luz e saudade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Reluz tudo aquilo que é bom&lt;br /&gt;Coração que se torna pedra preciosa, não pode ser quebrado nem ao menos trincado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tornou-se belo e inatingível&lt;br /&gt;Tão rígido e tão distante&lt;br /&gt;Que nem o mais sincero dos olhares pode admirá-lo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;16/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-487833463484083127?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/487833463484083127/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-coracao-pulsa-pulsa-pulsa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/487833463484083127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/487833463484083127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-coracao-pulsa-pulsa-pulsa.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-6685153948926283419</id><published>2009-06-19T01:02:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T01:05:49.101-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A História da Menina no Trem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;17h de um dia comum... A menina entra no trem com a cabeça cheia de pensamentos... Trabalho, amigos, contas, escola, amor... Apesar de pensar em amor, seu coração andava frio, quieto demais... Sento-se num dos bancos do vagão quase cheio, pegou seu rádio e pôs-se a ouvir suas músicas pelo fone de ouvido... Olhou para o lado e viu um rapaz sentado do outro lado do vagão, o rapaz tinha algo diferente, vestia-se com roupas da moda, o que não agradava a menina, mas tinha algo no formato de seus olhos que lhe chamava a atenção... Não sabia se era a barba por fazer, o nariz, os olhos, a boca, o desenho do boné sobre a cabeça ou se a junção de tudo, mas algo lhe prendia a atenção...No rádio começou uma música... &lt;strong&gt;“&lt;em&gt;De onde você vem? Quem vai te levar? Quem te faz sorrir? Quem te faz chorar? Qual será seu nome? Quais são seus amores? Você me faz imaginar...Te vejo de longe. Quero chegar. Algo não deixa eu me aproximar”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;... Nesse momento o trem parou e as portas se abriram, um tímido sol entrou pela porta aberta, banhou em cheio o rosto do rapaz... &lt;strong&gt;“&lt;em&gt;Você ilumina todo lugar&lt;/em&gt;...”&lt;/strong&gt; A menina pensou: “Valeu sol!” As portas se fecharam e o trem andou, aquele breve momento havia passado... Se lembrou que havia um bom tempo naquele dia, que não se olhava no espelho... Passou as mãos pelos cabelos e rapidamente sacou da bolsa um espelho e um batom... Depois da demonstração de vaidade misturada à tentativa de ser notada a menina voltou a olhá-lo... Aquele rapaz a instigara tanto, que ela quase não desceu na sua estação. Só se deu conta que tinha que descer quando ouviu bem ao fundo, misturado com a música “Estação Brás”... Por sorte o rapaz se levantou e se dirigiu a porta, a menina o seguiu... Andaram juntos até as escadas rolantes no meio do emaranhado de gente, a menina foi para trás dele para poder observá-lo melhor... Olhou as linhas de seus ombros largos e viu o quanto era alto... Subiram na escada rolante, ela a esquerda e ele a direita... Ela, um degrau abaixo do dele o que aumentava ainda mais a sua altura... Mais que derrepente, a menina olhou para cima e o rapaz para trás... Seus olhares se encontraram a menina desviou... Depois de todo esse tempo só agora ele se dera conta da presença dela... Ele arriscou mais duas olhadas, que a menina percebeu... Seguiram paralelamente andando pelo mar de gente na direção do metrô... Ele arriscou mais um olhar... Nesse momento outra música começa... “&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Meu amor eu sinto muito, muito, muito, mais vou indo. Pois é tarde, muito tarde e eu preciso ir embora. Sinto muito meu amor mas acho que já vou andando. Amanhã acordo cedo e preciso ir embora. Eu queria ter você mas acho que já vou andando...”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; A menina sorriu... Quando passaram pela catraca do metrô, era o fim da linha... Ele foi sentido Palmeiras-Barra Funda e ela Corinthians-Itaquera...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-6685153948926283419?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/6685153948926283419/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/06/historia-da-menina-no-trem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6685153948926283419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6685153948926283419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/06/historia-da-menina-no-trem.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-6960510571759352198</id><published>2009-06-03T00:48:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T01:26:06.544-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lara, lara, Lara lira...&lt;br /&gt;Lara, Lara... larão!&lt;br /&gt;Lira lara, lero lero&lt;br /&gt;Lara lora... loira não!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lara luz, lara lírica, calórica&lt;br /&gt;Calórica não!&lt;br /&gt;Lara flor, lara que brilha&lt;br /&gt;Laravilha, lara em botão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lara lara, laravilha&lt;br /&gt;Fábrica de ervilha. Milho não.&lt;br /&gt;Lara e milho? Não, ladrilho!&lt;br /&gt;Empecilho! Ah, Lara, não!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lere Lere, Lara Lara&lt;br /&gt;L'airosa e clara, clarão!&lt;br /&gt;São muitas faces, mas tão contrárias&lt;br /&gt;Que se confundem na contramão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lara lara, lara linha, lara linda&lt;br /&gt;Flor botão!&lt;br /&gt;Clara larinha, bela lara&lt;br /&gt;Lara lara... larete, lira. Larão!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Por Fábio Gomes &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Obrigada!!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-6960510571759352198?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/6960510571759352198/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/06/lara-lara-lara-lira.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6960510571759352198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6960510571759352198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/06/lara-lara-lara-lira.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-9057181949555420603</id><published>2009-06-03T00:11:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T00:13:54.151-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;O que é que brilha sem&lt;br /&gt;Ser ouro? - A mulher de touro!&lt;br /&gt;É a companheira perfeita&lt;br /&gt;Quando levanta ou quando deita.&lt;br /&gt;Mas é mulher exclusivista&lt;br /&gt;Se não tem tudo faz a pista.&lt;br /&gt;Depois que dona de casa...&lt;br /&gt;E a noite ainda manda brasa.&lt;br /&gt;Sua virtude: a paciência&lt;br /&gt;Seu dia bom: a sexta-feira&lt;br /&gt;Sua cor propícia: o verde&lt;br /&gt;As flores dos seus pendores:&lt;br /&gt;Rosa, flor de macieira.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Touro - Vinicius de Moraes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-9057181949555420603?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/9057181949555420603/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-que-e-que-brilha-sem-ser-ouro-mulher.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/9057181949555420603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/9057181949555420603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-que-e-que-brilha-sem-ser-ouro-mulher.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-359671257300877297</id><published>2009-05-21T00:09:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T00:10:53.008-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E tem mais coisas querendo sair...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-359671257300877297?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/359671257300877297/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-tem-mais-coisas-querendo-sair.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/359671257300877297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/359671257300877297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-tem-mais-coisas-querendo-sair.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3616007365060390494</id><published>2009-05-21T00:08:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T00:16:18.787-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Coisas que rodeiam a cabeça e beiram a uma insanidade surda...&lt;br /&gt;Surda pois não ouve, ninguém ouve o grito preso na garganta de alguém com sede de vida...&lt;br /&gt;Está preso, pois não pode ser solto, não pode ser gritado, vomitado pra fora com vontade e ímpeto...&lt;br /&gt;As sombras pesam sob as costas de quem já calou, mas não quer mais...&lt;br /&gt;Quer gritar, quer correr...&lt;br /&gt;Quer gritar e correr nua pela grama numa noite de chuva e estrelas...&lt;br /&gt;Gritar pra libertar... Pra deixar de guardar... Pra entender que o tempo não é algo que possa voltar... E nem que possa ir...&lt;br /&gt;Que o tempo é agora...&lt;br /&gt;Deixar que o grito leve tudo o que é efêmero, pequeno demais...&lt;br /&gt;Que o vômito de voz faça com que todos ouçam seu peito aguado...&lt;br /&gt;Que nada mais preso fique onde está...&lt;br /&gt;Que a chuva lave o fervor da pele, da alma, dos olhos...&lt;br /&gt;Pois a pele arde num fogo pulsante, espiral...&lt;br /&gt;Fogo esse que nunca se calou, sempre gritou e sempre queimou...&lt;br /&gt;Fogo esse que nunca mais será apagado, pois é muito mais forte...&lt;br /&gt;A insanidade está aqui, inquieta, maliciosa, sedutora, selvagem...&lt;br /&gt;Insanidade que cheira flores de outono... Frias, porém, presentes...&lt;br /&gt;Que tem um estranho gosto metálico e a cor da neblina...&lt;br /&gt;Insanidade que está aqui desde que a alma é alma...&lt;br /&gt;Insanidade presente desde que comecei essas letras...&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/7398440439295209164-3616007365060390494?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3616007365060390494/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/05/coisas-que-rodeiam-cabeca-e-beiram-uma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3616007365060390494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3616007365060390494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/05/coisas-que-rodeiam-cabeca-e-beiram-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4550338152914955711</id><published>2009-05-08T14:48:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:04:44.942-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Conto da Fada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... A Cinderela que de tanta coisa que tinha pra fazer, acabou virando bela adormecida, acordou com tanta fome que comeu a maça, que parou na garganta, afogando o peito, ficou tão branca, tão branca que acabou Branca de Neve, caiu no mar e virou Ariel, um dia deu um salto e o tapete mágico passou e a levou, seu nome agora é Yasmim, até que apareceram juntos a Fada Madrinha e o Gênio da lâmpada e disseram:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Oh! Pequena criança, já passastes por tantas desventuras, queres um Príncipe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pequena pensou, pensou e pensou, até que fez uma cara feia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Príncipe? Eu quero é o Lobo Mau!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-4550338152914955711?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4550338152914955711/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/05/conto-da-fada.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4550338152914955711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4550338152914955711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/05/conto-da-fada.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-5055987396307881353</id><published>2009-05-08T00:24:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T00:25:48.756-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;O Último Poema&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Tchau!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-5055987396307881353?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/5055987396307881353/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-ultimo-poema.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5055987396307881353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5055987396307881353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-ultimo-poema.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-8559187528816409492</id><published>2009-04-26T23:32:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T00:56:41.119-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hoje vou pedir a ajuda do vento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pra levar todo sofrimento e me deixar nos braços dela...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pois trago amor escondido dentro do peito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e tenho todo direito de crescer voar por aí&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pois se eu não soubesse que o rio corre pro mar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que sanfona é pra forrozar e meu coração é todo seu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu não sonharia não me entregaria assim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não existiria em mim um desejo louco de te encontrar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sopra vento...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sopra vento... zum zum...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sopra vento... zum zum...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sopra vento e me deixe nos braços da paz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;(autor desconhecido)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-8559187528816409492?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/8559187528816409492/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/04/hoje-vou-pedir-ajuda-do-vento-pra-levar.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8559187528816409492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8559187528816409492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/04/hoje-vou-pedir-ajuda-do-vento-pra-levar.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-6917610149015200533</id><published>2009-04-22T00:00:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:07:29.352-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O amor vem, ele chega e quando chega, não quer ir embora.&lt;br /&gt;Passam-se os tempos, mudam-se as vontades e o amor continua fora do lugar...&lt;br /&gt;Amor, vem pra cá, pára de brincá.&lt;br /&gt;Senta aqui e fica quietinho, acalme-se, acalente-se.&lt;br /&gt;Amor, não maltrate o coração, deixe-o pulsar, deixe-o viver.&lt;br /&gt;Amor, vem aqui, bata no meu peito e bata no dele também.&lt;br /&gt;Amor, me deixa te amar, não me faça te odiar...&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/7398440439295209164-6917610149015200533?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/6917610149015200533/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-amor-vem-ele-chega-e-quando-chega-nao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6917610149015200533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6917610149015200533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-amor-vem-ele-chega-e-quando-chega-nao.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-2241563367066487621</id><published>2009-04-22T00:00:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:06:10.945-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amor, amar, amado.&lt;br /&gt;O amado que amava a amada, que amava outro amado, o primeiro amado que não era amado pela amada, mas era amado por outra amada. A amada que amava o amado que não amava...&lt;br /&gt;Afinal, cadê o amor? Se se ama mas não o tem...&lt;br /&gt;Se escondeu? Fugiu ou morreu?&lt;br /&gt;Cadê o amor? Se perdeu? Não se achou...&lt;br /&gt;Porque o amor não se encontra? Já que nessas letras se ama tanto?&lt;br /&gt;Porque quem ama não pode amar quem ama?&lt;br /&gt;O amor prega peça, é bicho malvado, criança travessa.&lt;br /&gt;Acho que o cúpido ficou bravo porque ninguém ama o amor, só ama o amado que amava a amada, que amava outro amado, o primeiro amado que não era amado pela amada, mas era amado por outra amada. A amada que amava o amado que não amava...&lt;br /&gt;Então cúpido ficou bravo pois viu o amor triste e quis vingá-lo. Mandou flechas tortas regadas de desencontros que não nos deixam usar a razão e deixou pra nós, seres movidos de amor, a difícil e árdua tarefa de encontrar o caminho que leve ao amado amar a amada e a amada amar o amado e assim o amor será finalmente amado...&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/7398440439295209164-2241563367066487621?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/2241563367066487621/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/04/amor-amar-amado.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2241563367066487621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2241563367066487621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/04/amor-amar-amado.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-7584348374976944659</id><published>2009-04-06T01:08:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T01:19:27.772-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Basta!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chega! Não agüento mais! Chega desse lixo! Chega dessa merda!&lt;br /&gt;Não agüento mais! Chega! Chega!&lt;br /&gt;Tanto desengano, tanto choro, tanta merda, merda...&lt;br /&gt;Por favor, chega! To no meu limite de angústia, de medo...&lt;br /&gt;Só sobram sopros e lufadas de nada!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de perder! Chega de ganhar rugas e dores!&lt;br /&gt;Basta! Chega!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de punhaladas de lâminas frias! De facas sem corte!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de desespero, chega de dor!&lt;br /&gt;Pelo amor de Deus! Pára!&lt;br /&gt;Me deixa em paz! Quero viver! Vai embora! Sai daqui!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de sobras! Chega de restos cuspidos! Chega de migalhas!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de amores maltrapilhos e paixões rasgadas!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de corações dilacerados e corpos a míngua... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chega de um corpo surrado, de um corpo doente!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Chega!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de um ser vazio, incompleto, machucado...&lt;br /&gt;Chega!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de pena! Chega de dó!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de achar que não merece, que não foi feito pra isso!&lt;br /&gt;Pára! Por favor!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de espezinhar, de ferir, de matar, de morrer!&lt;br /&gt;Não quero mais matar! Não quero mais morrer!&lt;br /&gt;Não quero mais me sentir assim! Não mais! Nunca mais!&lt;br /&gt;Me deixe ir! Me deixe voltar!&lt;br /&gt;Devolva! Devolva meu coração!&lt;br /&gt;Quero um ser inteiro, não quero mais metades!&lt;br /&gt;Joga fora! Solte meus pulsos! Desacorrente minha alma!&lt;br /&gt;Quero viver!&lt;br /&gt;Chega!&lt;br /&gt;Chega!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-7584348374976944659?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/7584348374976944659/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/04/basta-chega-nao-aguento-mais-chega.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7584348374976944659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7584348374976944659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/04/basta-chega-nao-aguento-mais-chega.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1056076534666288103</id><published>2009-03-13T11:19:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:07:45.629-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sou um clown diário&lt;br /&gt;Com urgência de vida&lt;br /&gt;Um palhaço que ri e algumas vezes chora!&lt;br /&gt;Mas não... Não chore palhaço!&lt;br /&gt;Você tem sorrisos pra arrancar, dias bonitos pra fazer.&lt;br /&gt;Sou um palhaço alegre, sarcástico, pateta, palhaço...&lt;br /&gt;Um palhaço deslumbrado com coisas pequenas que parecem sem graça aos olhos de muitos&lt;br /&gt;Um palhaço que muitas vezes não usa maquiagem, nem nariz&lt;br /&gt;Outras que usa, batom, sombra nos olhos, e salto alto...&lt;br /&gt;E outras ainda, que usa pancake branco, roupas coloridas, um grande nariz e outros nomes&lt;br /&gt;Sou um palhaço num mundo de fúria&lt;br /&gt;No meu mundo, no dos outros e no de todos&lt;br /&gt;Um palhaço que busca ajudar, mas nem sempre faz a coisa certa&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que é certo? Quem definiu o que é certo?&lt;br /&gt;Seja lá o que for, não foi um acordo comum.&lt;br /&gt;Um palhaço que ainda vai se tornar o que se quer ser&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que algumas pessoas se incomodem com a minha alegria&lt;br /&gt;Eu a faço de bom de grado e peito aberto&lt;br /&gt;Um palhaço que se questiona sobre fazer o bem, sobre querer bem&lt;br /&gt;Um palhaço que muitas vezes não quer ser palhaço, quer ser apenas mulher&lt;br /&gt;Mas então descobre que ser palhaço é o que a deixa mais feliz!&lt;br /&gt;Que não importa se é palhaço ou se é mulher&lt;br /&gt;Que importa é ser os dois! Ás vezes junto, ás vezes separado...&lt;br /&gt;“Que um sorriso gasta menos energia e dá mais luz”&lt;br /&gt;“Que a cada mil lágrimas, nasce um milagre”&lt;br /&gt;“Que ser feliz custa tão pouco, que nem se quer nos damos conta”&lt;br /&gt;Um palhaço que emerge e sucumbi&lt;br /&gt;Mas que nunca deixará de ser um palhaço! Um palhaço-mulher!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-1056076534666288103?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1056076534666288103/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/03/sou-um-clown-diario-com-urgencia-de.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1056076534666288103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1056076534666288103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/03/sou-um-clown-diario-com-urgencia-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-6960457755768557406</id><published>2009-02-15T23:29:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:08:04.922-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;o sol não aparece há dias&lt;br /&gt;uma bela flor no vaso&lt;br /&gt;um chinelo perto da lareira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;um cello repousa na capa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;logo ela desce as escadas&lt;br /&gt;a elegância da manhã que ela veste&lt;br /&gt;o som da água faz ela sonhar&lt;br /&gt;acordada por uma nuvem de vapor&lt;br /&gt;ela põe seus sonhos num copo&lt;br /&gt;uma colher de açucar adoça tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;e ela luta por sua vida&lt;br /&gt;enquanto coloca o casaco&lt;br /&gt;e ela luta por sua vida no trem&lt;br /&gt;ela olha a chuva enquanto ela cai&lt;br /&gt;e ela luta por sua vida&lt;br /&gt;quando entra na loja&lt;br /&gt;com um pensamento em um assunto que a pegou, ela paga pelo pão e se vai &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;o sol não aparece há dias&lt;br /&gt;uma melodia de inverno que ela toca&lt;br /&gt;o trovão faz ela pensar&lt;br /&gt;ela ouve um barulho atrás do portão&lt;br /&gt;talvez uma carta com uma pomba&lt;br /&gt;talvez um estranho q ela possa amar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;oren lavie- her morning elegance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Valeu Kléber!!!&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/7398440439295209164-6960457755768557406?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/6960457755768557406/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/02/o-sol-nao-aparece-ha-dias-uma-bela-flor.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6960457755768557406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6960457755768557406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/02/o-sol-nao-aparece-ha-dias-uma-bela-flor.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-7002722553658515518</id><published>2009-02-15T22:07:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:08:53.946-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cansaço&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ando cansada das pessoas... Pessoas que pouco ou nada tem na cabeça...&lt;br /&gt;Cansada da podridão, da hipocrisia, da maledicência, da mediocridade...&lt;br /&gt;Cansada de ver pessoas que atrapalham a evolução das espécie...&lt;br /&gt;Cansada de vampiros, de oportunistas...&lt;br /&gt;Cansada de preconceito, de segregação...&lt;br /&gt;Ando tão cansada que me sinto enjoada...&lt;br /&gt;Quero vomitar todo o nojo que sinto, todo o asco, todo o pus preso na garganta...&lt;br /&gt;Cansei de pessoas que só fazem peso no mundo...&lt;br /&gt;Cansada de pessoas feias, que cospem podridão por onde passam...&lt;br /&gt;Que só carregam discórdia, raiva, doenças...&lt;br /&gt;Ando cansada de ter dó, de sentir pena da minha própria raça...&lt;br /&gt;Cansada de pessoas cegas, burras, pessoas que julgam que o mundo é cruel, sem perceber que são elas que fazem mal, que poluem o mundo, que magoam, que chutam, que cospem...&lt;br /&gt;Cansada de saber que essas pessoas me fazem mal, me deixam triste...&lt;br /&gt;Cansada de saber que por mais que eu queira, eu não posso fazer nada por elas...&lt;br /&gt;Cansada de saber que sinto culpa por não poder fazer NADA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um homem sábio disse:“O mundo não suporta vítimas”.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-me feliz por saber que ainda existem pessoas boas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-7002722553658515518?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/7002722553658515518/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/02/cansaco-ando-cansada-das-pessoas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7002722553658515518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7002722553658515518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/02/cansaco-ando-cansada-das-pessoas.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-964604141507314107</id><published>2009-01-26T01:24:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:09:07.463-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quero rasgar tua carne com dentes e unhas...&lt;br /&gt;Mastigá-la e engoli-la...&lt;br /&gt;Cada pedaço de carne, de pele...&lt;br /&gt;Te fazer sangrar tudo aquilo que já me fez...&lt;br /&gt;Quero olhar nos teus olhos com a tua carne dilacerada...&lt;br /&gt;Sem piedade, sem compaixão ou clemência...&lt;br /&gt;Quero te fazer sentir a dor que sinto por dentro...&lt;br /&gt;Sentir o medo que tenho de perder a vida...&lt;br /&gt;O medo de te perder... Pra sempre...&lt;br /&gt;Quero ver teu sofrimento assim como foi o meu...&lt;br /&gt;Sem dó, pois de mim, não teve...&lt;br /&gt;E dizer no seu ouvido: Sofra...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mentira! Isso é tudo mentira!&lt;br /&gt;È só orgulho barato, ego idiota!&lt;br /&gt;É balela, bobagem, besteira...&lt;br /&gt;A mais imbecil mentira, a mais falsa mentira....&lt;br /&gt;Meu verdadeiro sentimento, é muito maior que isso...&lt;br /&gt;É maior do que podemos supor...&lt;br /&gt;Maior que eu, maior que você...&lt;br /&gt;Maior que eu e você... Juntos ou separados...&lt;br /&gt;O que sinto por você é....&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/7398440439295209164-964604141507314107?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/964604141507314107/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/01/quero-rasgar-tua-carne-com-dentes-e.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/964604141507314107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/964604141507314107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/01/quero-rasgar-tua-carne-com-dentes-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-2878362253673841833</id><published>2009-01-23T00:52:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:09:25.024-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sussurrando frases pra um único ouvido ouvir...&lt;br /&gt;A noite escura gélida que cai sobre minhas costas...&lt;br /&gt;Presas e garras a meia luz...&lt;br /&gt;Gemidos suspensos no ar...&lt;br /&gt;A folia do prazer instantâneo...&lt;br /&gt;O prazer da dor...&lt;br /&gt;A branca lua que faz meu coração pulsar...&lt;br /&gt;E meus olhos sangrarem...&lt;br /&gt;É frio... E é calor...&lt;br /&gt;Gelada que ferve...&lt;br /&gt;Sangue que cai e queima a pele...&lt;br /&gt;Saliva doce...&lt;br /&gt;Corpo trêmulo...&lt;br /&gt;Vontade que não quer ir embora...&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/7398440439295209164-2878362253673841833?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/2878362253673841833/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/01/sussurrando-frases-pra-um-nico-ouvido.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2878362253673841833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2878362253673841833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2009/01/sussurrando-frases-pra-um-nico-ouvido.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1603384855434329519</id><published>2008-12-19T02:16:00.005-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:09:41.944-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Anjo poeta, poeta anjo...&lt;br /&gt;Em ti algo explode, pulsa, talvez até sangra...&lt;br /&gt;É uma força que impulsiona as tuas palavras e me bate na cara...&lt;br /&gt;Sinto tuas feridas tão próximas das minhas...&lt;br /&gt;Mas com mais cor, mais sabor...&lt;br /&gt;Tão longe... Tão perto...&lt;br /&gt;Uma alma inquieta que se alimenta de poesia própria deixando a minha alma inquieta e por vezes calada... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me causas medo...&lt;br /&gt;Sobre ti há muito que dizer, mas há mais o que pensar...&lt;br /&gt;Dizer, não sei mais, és inenarrável...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sobre Lucas de Oliveira&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/7398440439295209164-1603384855434329519?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1603384855434329519/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/12/anjo-poeta-poeta-anjo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1603384855434329519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1603384855434329519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/12/anjo-poeta-poeta-anjo.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4165244620340127496</id><published>2008-12-19T00:20:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:09:53.787-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Entra macio e desliza cálido...&lt;br /&gt;Esboça um sorriso com uma destreza que é só sua...&lt;br /&gt;Tens brilho de homem no olhar...&lt;br /&gt;Que também é suave, quase irreal...&lt;br /&gt;Encosta quase todo o rosto no travesseiro colorido e finge que dorme...&lt;br /&gt;Pensa que não sinto os pensamentos embaralhados na cabeça...&lt;br /&gt;Mas por alguns momentos eles se esvaem pra algo mais sublime...&lt;br /&gt;Aperta forte... Tenta parar.. O ar sai socado do peito pela boca... Explode...&lt;br /&gt;Silêncio...&lt;br /&gt;Respira...&lt;br /&gt;Entrelaçam-se as pernas e os braços, descansa...&lt;br /&gt;Os fios dos cabelos correm pelos dedos...&lt;br /&gt;A carne branca e morena é que dão luz ao espaço...&lt;br /&gt;Fecham-se os olhos, por mais que se pense nada a memória guarda...&lt;br /&gt;O que se pensou pouco importa agora...&lt;br /&gt;O relógio parou... Pelo menos a um milésimo de segundo atrás...&lt;br /&gt;Parado... Eterno...&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/7398440439295209164-4165244620340127496?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4165244620340127496/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/12/entra-macio-e-desliza-clido.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4165244620340127496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4165244620340127496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/12/entra-macio-e-desliza-clido.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4227458273823629589</id><published>2008-12-09T01:01:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:10:08.203-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chega mais perto...&lt;br /&gt;Vem pra cá...&lt;br /&gt;Não tenha medo de seguir pelo caminho...&lt;br /&gt;Ele é escuro eu sei, mas estando de mãos dadas tem mais luz...&lt;br /&gt;Se arrisque de novo...&lt;br /&gt;Olhe nos meus olhos e veja tudo o que ele reflete...&lt;br /&gt;Sinta meu corpo e roube o calor...&lt;br /&gt;Deite sua cabeça no meu ombro e descanse da vida...&lt;br /&gt;Tire os seus pés do chão por apenas um segundo...&lt;br /&gt;Escute a minha voz com atenção...&lt;br /&gt;Falada, cantada, sussurrada ou gritada...&lt;br /&gt;Te seguro nos braços, pois preciso que me segure nos teus...&lt;br /&gt;Deixa entrar... Deixa viver...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspirado por "Série Cores: Vermelho" de Paty Augusto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-4227458273823629589?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4227458273823629589/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/12/chega-mais-perto.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4227458273823629589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4227458273823629589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/12/chega-mais-perto.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1272011796600092765</id><published>2008-11-12T23:55:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:10:24.668-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;DIÁLOGO: ( Sem querer)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Meu coração tá até acelerado...&lt;br /&gt;-Que bom... assim ele bomba mais sangue e o metabolismo funciona melhor!&lt;br /&gt;-Mas, dói...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por Lara Weber e Lucas de Oliveira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-1272011796600092765?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1272011796600092765/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/11/dilogo-sem-querer-meu-corao-t-at.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1272011796600092765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1272011796600092765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/11/dilogo-sem-querer-meu-corao-t-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-5711986577155640462</id><published>2008-11-09T23:19:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:11:01.668-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MUITO DO QUE EU FAÇO&lt;br /&gt;NÃO PENSO, ME LANÇO SEM COMPROMISSO.&lt;br /&gt;VOU NO MEU COMPASSO&lt;br /&gt;DANÇO, NÃO CANSO A NINGUÉM COBIÇO.&lt;br /&gt;TUDO O QUE EU TE PEÇO&lt;br /&gt;É POR TUDO QUE FIZ E SEI QUE MEREÇO&lt;br /&gt;POSSO, E TE CONFESSO.&lt;br /&gt;VOCÊ NÃO SABE DA MISSA UM TERÇO&lt;br /&gt;TANTO CHORO E PRANTO&lt;br /&gt;A VIDA DANDO NA CARA&lt;br /&gt;NÃO OFEREÇO A FACE NEM SORRISO AMARELO&lt;br /&gt;DENTRO DO MEU PEITO UMA VONTADE BIGORNA&lt;br /&gt;UM DESEJO MARTELO&lt;br /&gt;TANTO DESENCANTO&lt;br /&gt;A VIDA NÃO TE PERDOA&lt;br /&gt;TENDO TUDO CONTRA E NADA ME TRANSTORNA&lt;br /&gt;DENTRO DO MEU PEITO UM DESEJO MARTELO&lt;br /&gt;UMA VONTADE BIGORNA&lt;br /&gt;VOU CERTO&lt;br /&gt;DE ESTAR NO CAMINHO&lt;br /&gt;DESPERTO.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lenine - Martelo Bigorna &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/7398440439295209164-5711986577155640462?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/5711986577155640462/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/11/muito-do-que-eu-fao-no-penso-me-lano.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5711986577155640462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5711986577155640462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/11/muito-do-que-eu-fao-no-penso-me-lano.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3306621319953605278</id><published>2008-11-02T23:08:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:11:16.504-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Duas almas inquietas escrevendo madrugada a dentro... As linhas pretas são de Lucas de Oiveira (grande poeta, sensível, humano, ácido...) As verdes são minhas... Lu, obrigada!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A luz se apagou,&lt;br /&gt;aquele pássaro incapaz de voar rasgou meu peito&lt;br /&gt;pousou no seu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fiquei ali parada, imóvel, nada sentia, apenas olhava...&lt;br /&gt;e olhava...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Só não enxergava o doce olhar do pássaro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;logo havia medo, nele e em mim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;Eu queria estar naquele peito, mas não estava.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;quis ser o pássaro.&lt;br /&gt;não fui. morri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Morri, pois não posso voar,&lt;br /&gt;tenho asas, mas não voo..&lt;br /&gt;tenho coração, mas não bate...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quis ser o pássaro.&lt;br /&gt;não fui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E o que sou?&lt;br /&gt;Já que tenho asas que não voam e um coração que não bate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nada&lt;br /&gt;só o ouvinte mudo desse pássaro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cego e covarde&lt;br /&gt;covarde demais pra esquecer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aquecer o ser amanhecer&lt;br /&gt;Será, saber sem sentir&lt;br /&gt;Delete, esc ser, esquecer...&lt;br /&gt;Ser covarde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Enter.&lt;br /&gt;Na sua alma, nas suas mãos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Por Lara Weber &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Lucas de Oliveira.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Madrugada. 31/10/08. 01:48h.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-3306621319953605278?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3306621319953605278/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/11/duas-almas-inquietas-escrevendo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3306621319953605278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3306621319953605278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/11/duas-almas-inquietas-escrevendo.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-8740552259085566458</id><published>2008-10-29T17:05:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:11:34.284-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Se hoje eu te odeio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amanhã lhe tenho amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lhe tenho amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lhe tenho horror&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lhe faço amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eu sou um ator&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Viva Raul!&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/7398440439295209164-8740552259085566458?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/8740552259085566458/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/se-hoje-eu-te-odeio-amanh-lhe-tenho_29.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8740552259085566458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8740552259085566458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/se-hoje-eu-te-odeio-amanh-lhe-tenho_29.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1724547294642512821</id><published>2008-10-23T01:35:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:11:51.940-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;São pontiagudos e sinceros...&lt;br /&gt;Tão doces que chegam a enjoar...&lt;br /&gt;Uma ponta ás vezes pára na garganta e é preciso respirar...&lt;br /&gt;No começo dói um pouco, mas depois acostuma...&lt;br /&gt;Os recolho... Por dia... Por hora e por minuto...&lt;br /&gt;Surge uma lágrima do centro do olho...&lt;br /&gt;A sensação é que ela arde...&lt;br /&gt;Quando caem a dor é pulsante, latente...&lt;br /&gt;Surgem míseras sensações de prazer e calor...&lt;br /&gt;E o sentimento de perda...&lt;br /&gt;O sangue corre pouco e o coração bate muito...&lt;br /&gt;É impossível mensurar os danos que causam...&lt;br /&gt;Mas também trazem a força, a luta, a crença...&lt;br /&gt;Quando ficam, não se acomodam...&lt;br /&gt;E incomodam a ponto de ter que expulsar...&lt;br /&gt;Ou por choro, por grito, por palavras ou pela indiferença...&lt;br /&gt;Alojam-se pensamentos de falta, de desesperança, de só, de pó...&lt;br /&gt;Pensamentos de raiva, de impossibilidade, de inferioridade...&lt;br /&gt;Então é melhor deixá-los assim, fora...&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que apareçam e desapareçam eles sempre caem pelo chão...&lt;br /&gt;Ou são transformados em sorrisos, em esperança, em paixão... Em amor...&lt;br /&gt;Dando vida ao significado do ser...&lt;br /&gt;E dando ao ser vida...&lt;br /&gt;A vontade, a alegria, o desejo pela vida...&lt;br /&gt;Então que é melhor que saiam...&lt;br /&gt;Mas... Existem aqueles que devem voltar de onde vieram...&lt;br /&gt;Voltar pra dentro...&lt;br /&gt;Aqueles que se perderam não por vontade própria, mas porque foram roubados...&lt;br /&gt;E assim que recuperados, vão pra uma taça e são bebidos com muita sede...&lt;br /&gt;No começo dói um pouco, mas depois aliviam...&lt;br /&gt;Esses são os mais importantes e não devem ser esquecidos nem ignorados...&lt;br /&gt;Esses são a essência...&lt;br /&gt;A Alma...&lt;br /&gt;O sopro que traz de volta...&lt;br /&gt;Assim são...&lt;br /&gt;Os meus pedaços...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Inspirado por "Insetos Interiores" de Fernando Anitelli&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/7398440439295209164-1724547294642512821?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1724547294642512821/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-pontiagudos-e-sinceros.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1724547294642512821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1724547294642512821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-pontiagudos-e-sinceros.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-5372577523892557361</id><published>2008-10-21T01:59:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:12:08.386-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;PELA VIA LÁCTEA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tenho uma estrela chamada coração, ela tem vida própria...&lt;br /&gt;É detentora de uma luz que poucos viram...&lt;br /&gt;Guardo um universo dentro de mim, chamado alma...&lt;br /&gt;É um universo cheio de contradições e com um profundo desejo de existir...&lt;br /&gt;Explosões cósmicas que ocorrem diariamente no meu corpo...&lt;br /&gt;Levam impulsos eletromagnéticos pras minhas fibras, ossos e pele...&lt;br /&gt;Chuvas de um profundo brilho ocorrem pelos meus olhos...&lt;br /&gt;Mas nele também, há um buraco negro, denso, pesado...&lt;br /&gt;Meteoros gigantescos de sensações, sentimentos intensos que reverberam nas minhas articulações...&lt;br /&gt;É o meu corpo celeste que cai...&lt;br /&gt;Sou controlada pelas minhas luas...&lt;br /&gt;Tenho vários e vários cometas de pensamentos...&lt;br /&gt;Galáxias e Galáxias de medos nebulosos...&lt;br /&gt;O fenômeno que desalinhou o meu sistema solar, rotação e translação trocam constantemente de lugar...&lt;br /&gt;Tudo isso porque era uma estrela cadente que rompia o céu no momento em que eu olhava...&lt;br /&gt;Mas não pro céu, para os seus olhos...&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/7398440439295209164-5372577523892557361?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/5372577523892557361/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/pela-via-lctea-tenho-uma-estrela.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5372577523892557361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5372577523892557361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/pela-via-lctea-tenho-uma-estrela.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3613153881481041125</id><published>2008-10-16T00:58:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:12:19.116-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É o que pulsa o meu sangue quente&lt;br /&gt;É o que faz meu animal ser gente&lt;br /&gt;É o meu compasso mais civilizado e controlado&lt;br /&gt;Estou deixando o ar me respirar&lt;br /&gt;Bebendo água pra lubrificar&lt;br /&gt;Mirando a mente em algo producente&lt;br /&gt;Meu alvo é a paz&lt;br /&gt;Vou carregar de tudo vida afora&lt;br /&gt;Marcas de amor, de luto e espora&lt;br /&gt;Deixo alegria e dor ao ir embora&lt;br /&gt;Amo a vida a cada segundo&lt;br /&gt;Pois pra viver eu transformei meu mundo&lt;br /&gt;Abro feliz o peito&lt;br /&gt;É meu direito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Compasso&lt;br /&gt;(Ricardo MacCord / Angela Ro Rô)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-3613153881481041125?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3613153881481041125/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/o-que-pulsa-o-meu-sangue-quente-o-que.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3613153881481041125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3613153881481041125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/o-que-pulsa-o-meu-sangue-quente-o-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1507426004913475091</id><published>2008-10-14T12:32:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:12:31.803-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;-Eu esperava e morria.&lt;br /&gt;-Eu morria por esperar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Lorca)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-1507426004913475091?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1507426004913475091/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/eu-esperava-e-morria.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1507426004913475091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1507426004913475091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/eu-esperava-e-morria.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4596975894048466868</id><published>2008-10-14T12:08:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:12:44.059-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nos caminhos de luta&lt;br /&gt;nos frutos sem cor&lt;br /&gt;nas vidas geladas em torno de mim&lt;br /&gt;O calor do meu corpo está no seu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-4596975894048466868?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4596975894048466868/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/nos-caminhos-de-luta-nos-frutos-sem-cor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4596975894048466868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4596975894048466868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/nos-caminhos-de-luta-nos-frutos-sem-cor.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-2174246374982592049</id><published>2008-10-09T01:01:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:12:57.111-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Odeio o modo como você fala comigo,&lt;br /&gt;E o modo como você corta o seu cabelo,&lt;br /&gt;Odeio o modo como você dirige meu carro,&lt;br /&gt;E odeio quando você me encara,&lt;br /&gt;Odeio suas enormes botas de combate,&lt;br /&gt;E o modo como você lê a minha mente,&lt;br /&gt;Odeio tanto que isso me deixa doente,&lt;br /&gt;E até me faz rimar,&lt;br /&gt;Eu odeio...&lt;br /&gt;Odeio o modo como você está sempre certo,&lt;br /&gt;E odeio quando você mente,&lt;br /&gt;Eu odeio quando você me faz rir,&lt;br /&gt;E mais ainda quando me faz chorar,&lt;br /&gt;Eu odeio quando você não está por perto,&lt;br /&gt;E o fato de não me ligar,&lt;br /&gt;Mas mais que tudo,&lt;br /&gt;Odeio o fato de não conseguir te odiar&lt;br /&gt;Nem um pouco,&lt;br /&gt;Nem por um segundo,&lt;br /&gt;Nem mesmo só por te odiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do filme: 10 coisas que eu odeio em você. &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/7398440439295209164-2174246374982592049?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/2174246374982592049/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/odeio-o-modo-como-voc-fala-comigo-e-o.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2174246374982592049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2174246374982592049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/10/odeio-o-modo-como-voc-fala-comigo-e-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-8644036330175123962</id><published>2008-09-09T02:57:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:13:09.596-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eu moro no mundo, eu moro em mundo nenhum...&lt;br /&gt;Eu moro em qualquer lugar...&lt;br /&gt;Me faço entre fendas...&lt;br /&gt;Choro cada riso, e riu cada choro...&lt;br /&gt;Levanto e cresço a cada tombo...&lt;br /&gt;Moro em cada coração, e cada coração é a minha casa...&lt;br /&gt;Aprendo com cada sorriso, riso, gargalhada...&lt;br /&gt;Alegriando cada momento, aliviando toda a dor...&lt;br /&gt;Não importa o preço que eu pague, o meu negócio é viver...&lt;br /&gt;E quero vive-lo a cada vão momento...&lt;br /&gt;Quero e vou...&lt;br /&gt;Me desfaço e me reconstruo...&lt;br /&gt;Eu canto cada música, e sinto qualquer dor...&lt;br /&gt;Sempre penso que podia ser melhor... E que podia ser muito pior...&lt;br /&gt;Me faço em cada abraço, em cada beijo dado com afeto...&lt;br /&gt;Em cada palavra livre de máscaras e dada de bom grado...&lt;br /&gt;Me faço por amor... pela vida...&lt;br /&gt;Me faço porque apareço, porque existo, porque acredito...&lt;br /&gt;E sobretudo, porque sinto...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;09/09/08&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-8644036330175123962?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/8644036330175123962/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/09/eu-moro-no-mundo-eu-moro-em-mundo.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8644036330175123962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8644036330175123962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/09/eu-moro-no-mundo-eu-moro-em-mundo.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3071827456601528422</id><published>2008-07-17T01:43:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:14:14.666-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Refletiu a luz divina &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;em todo seu esplendor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;vem do reino de Oxalá &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Onde há paz e amor &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Luz que refletiu na terra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Luz que refletiu no mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Luz que veio, da Aruanda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Para tudo iluminar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A Umbanda é paz e amor &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É um mundo cheio de luz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É força que nos dá vida &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;e a grandeza nos conduz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Avante filhos de fé, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Como a nossa lei não há,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Levamos ao mundo inteiro &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A Bandeira de Oxalá ! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Levamos ao mundo inteiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A Bandeira de Oxalá !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hino da Umbanda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Epahei!&lt;br /&gt;Kowô Kobyesile&lt;br /&gt;Odioá! Odô-fe-iabá!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-3071827456601528422?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3071827456601528422/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/07/refletiu-luz-divina-em-todo-seu.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3071827456601528422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3071827456601528422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/07/refletiu-luz-divina-em-todo-seu.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-8315667597871529689</id><published>2008-07-01T03:51:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:15:15.685-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hoje acordei e apenas um pensamento tive...&lt;br /&gt;Que nos teus braços é onde me encontro e quero estar...&lt;br /&gt;Neste momento...&lt;br /&gt;Não quero tuas palavras, nem teus pensamentos...&lt;br /&gt;Deixe-os pra depois...&lt;br /&gt;Quero apenas o silêncio do teu abraço...&lt;br /&gt;E o teu olhar firme e sincero...&lt;br /&gt;Quero apenas sentir-te perto...&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que longe...&lt;br /&gt;Tive a sensação de paz...&lt;br /&gt;Mas ainda tenho medo...&lt;br /&gt;Que é tão grande, que nem podes notar...&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-me bem agora, como a tempos não me sentia...&lt;br /&gt;Não quero que vás... Não quero que acabe...&lt;br /&gt;Nem nossas horas, nem minutos...&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-me bem agora, assim como nos teus braços eu estaria...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01/07/08&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/7398440439295209164-8315667597871529689?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/8315667597871529689/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/07/hoje-acordei-e-apenas-um-pensamento.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8315667597871529689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8315667597871529689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/07/hoje-acordei-e-apenas-um-pensamento.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4399979334047218348</id><published>2008-05-09T01:55:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:15:34.416-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É lamina fria, num dia de sol...&lt;br /&gt;Fina, navalha...&lt;br /&gt;Corta minha carne, faz cair o sangue...&lt;br /&gt;Que pulsa, que ferve...&lt;br /&gt;A carne se rompe lentamente, um gemido de dor...&lt;br /&gt;Não posso ir mais fundo...&lt;br /&gt;Algo me interrompe, meus ossos sólidos, tórridos...&lt;br /&gt;Já há muito sangue no chão...&lt;br /&gt;Vermelho e quente...&lt;br /&gt;Já quase não enxergo, está escuro...&lt;br /&gt;Meus joelhos fraquejam, e eu caio...&lt;br /&gt;Sinto o sangue q tinge minhas roupas, ainda está quente...&lt;br /&gt;Agora meu rosto está no chão, sinto o gosto do meu próprio sangue...&lt;br /&gt;Já não vejo mais nada.&lt;br /&gt;Não, não é suicídio...&lt;br /&gt;São apenas meus próprios sentimentos vivos e frenéticos&lt;br /&gt;Que dominam meu corpo e estagna a minha mente...&lt;br /&gt;Meu coração já não bate no peito...&lt;br /&gt;Mas sim, em todas as partes do meu corpo...&lt;br /&gt;Na cabeça, nas coxas, nas costas, no sexo...&lt;br /&gt;Já não posso mais...&lt;br /&gt;Me entrego...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;08/05/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-4399979334047218348?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4399979334047218348/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/05/lamina-fria-num-dia-de-sol.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4399979334047218348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4399979334047218348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/05/lamina-fria-num-dia-de-sol.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-2574149382765978171</id><published>2008-05-09T01:52:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:15:53.532-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Meu coração tá pequenino do tamanho de um botão...&lt;br /&gt;Onde foi que o guardei? O meu coração...&lt;br /&gt;É uma rosa bem vermelha... e bem bonita...&lt;br /&gt;Porque você vem e não fica?&lt;br /&gt;O meu amor é eterno... Eterno pela vida...&lt;br /&gt;Entre idas e vindas... Estou aqui...&lt;br /&gt;Olhando pra cima... Com lágrimas nos olhos...&lt;br /&gt;Sem esperança o que seria de mim?&lt;br /&gt;Mas, porque ainda dói?&lt;br /&gt;É do sorriso mais sincero...&lt;br /&gt;Que vem a lágrima mais profunda...&lt;br /&gt;É das palavras não ditas e outras esquecidas&lt;br /&gt;Que vem a saudade fria...&lt;br /&gt;É pelos meus olhos que vejo o brilho...&lt;br /&gt;É por eles que vejo também a saudade...&lt;br /&gt;Saudade...&lt;br /&gt;Que pára o tempo e congela o sentimento...&lt;br /&gt;Que para o tempo é só indiferença...&lt;br /&gt;Sozinha...&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/7398440439295209164-2574149382765978171?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/2574149382765978171/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/05/meu-corao-t-pequenino-do-tamanho-de-um.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2574149382765978171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/2574149382765978171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/05/meu-corao-t-pequenino-do-tamanho-de-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-8114144887650987576</id><published>2008-04-24T15:14:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:16:54.151-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É aquela mesma sensação de tempo atrás&lt;br /&gt;È piso firme&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu flutuo&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que já não há o que fazer&lt;br /&gt;A não ser deixar acontecer&lt;br /&gt;O azul do céu está intenso&lt;br /&gt;Assim como o castanho dos meus olhos&lt;br /&gt;Já não é mais frio&lt;br /&gt;É medo&lt;br /&gt;Já não sinto mais dor&lt;br /&gt;Só arder&lt;br /&gt;Escurece o dia e cai a noite&lt;br /&gt;Laranja, amarelo, azul, azul...&lt;br /&gt;A branca lua ainda não veio&lt;br /&gt;Minha pele escura reflete a luz&lt;br /&gt;A pálida luz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;23/04/08&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-8114144887650987576?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/8114144887650987576/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/04/aquela-mesma-sensao-de-tempo-atrs-piso.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8114144887650987576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8114144887650987576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/04/aquela-mesma-sensao-de-tempo-atrs-piso.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4731348470195220720</id><published>2008-04-24T15:14:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:16:14.828-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É um fino traço de sangue&lt;br /&gt;Tinge com púrpura o meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;O sangue vivo dilacera os sentido e acalma a alma&lt;br /&gt;É o mesmo sangue que faz pulsar&lt;br /&gt;E faz parar&lt;br /&gt;É o sangue que me faz suspirar&lt;br /&gt;É o sangue que me faz sonhar&lt;br /&gt;É o sangue que me faz sentir&lt;br /&gt;Tudo aquilo que desejo&lt;br /&gt;O sangue que rompe a pele&lt;br /&gt;E que fica na ponta da agulha&lt;br /&gt;O sangue que transborda calor&lt;br /&gt;Calor que vem da carne&lt;br /&gt;Sangue que corre num ritmo frenético&lt;br /&gt;E interrompe o fluxo dos pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;Sangue que cai&lt;br /&gt;Sangue que esvai&lt;br /&gt;E o sangue que me faz viver&lt;br /&gt;Tudo aquilo que desejo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;23/04/08&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-4731348470195220720?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4731348470195220720/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/04/um-fino-trao-de-sangue-tinge-com-prpura.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4731348470195220720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4731348470195220720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/04/um-fino-trao-de-sangue-tinge-com-prpura.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-3086725738249332102</id><published>2008-04-22T13:28:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:17:15.410-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/SA4SjCbWd_I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/3JQ5SDADNzY/s1600-h/masterpiece.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192107813561071602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/SA4SjCbWd_I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/3JQ5SDADNzY/s320/masterpiece.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;É algo dentro de mim que se quebra&lt;br /&gt;È um medo absurdo&lt;br /&gt;São palavras e palavras que tenho que decifrar&lt;br /&gt;São olhos e olhares que me perdem e que me prendem&lt;br /&gt;São mãos e luvas&lt;br /&gt;È a hora que não passa&lt;br /&gt;E a que passa&lt;br /&gt;Me vejo indo, mas nunca sei pra onde&lt;br /&gt;Me perdendo e me achando&lt;br /&gt;È a pele que arrepia&lt;br /&gt;É a boca que é calada&lt;br /&gt;É a mesma chuva fina e disforme&lt;br /&gt;O pulso do meu coração alterna&lt;br /&gt;Entre ser ou não ser&lt;br /&gt;Ou não será essa a questão?&lt;br /&gt;È meu corpo que me leva a dormir, pra poder sonhar&lt;br /&gt;E o mesmo corpo me leva à agonia de acordar&lt;br /&gt;Já pensei em tudo&lt;br /&gt;Mas não achei a resposta&lt;br /&gt;Do porque uma vida se encontra com a outra se não podem ser entrelaçadas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;21/04/08&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-3086725738249332102?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/3086725738249332102/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/04/algo-dentro-de-mim-que-se-quebra-um.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3086725738249332102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/3086725738249332102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/04/algo-dentro-de-mim-que-se-quebra-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/SA4SjCbWd_I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/3JQ5SDADNzY/s72-c/masterpiece.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1780709881594637678</id><published>2008-04-07T00:46:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:17:29.472-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não, ele não vai mais dobrar&lt;br /&gt;Pode até se acostumar&lt;br /&gt;Ele vai viver sozinho&lt;br /&gt;Desaprendeu a dividir&lt;br /&gt;Foi escolher o mau-me-quer&lt;br /&gt;Entre o amor de uma mulher&lt;br /&gt;E as certezas do caminho&lt;br /&gt;Ele não pôde se entregar&lt;br /&gt;E agora vai ter de pagar com o coração&lt;br /&gt;Olha lá, ele não é feliz&lt;br /&gt;Sempre diz&lt;br /&gt;Que é do tipo cara valente&lt;br /&gt;Mas, veja só&lt;br /&gt;A gente sabe&lt;br /&gt;Esse humor é coisa de um rapaz&lt;br /&gt;Que sem ter proteção&lt;br /&gt;Foi se esconder atrás&lt;br /&gt;Da cara de vilão&lt;br /&gt;Então, não faz assim, rapaz&lt;br /&gt;Não bota esse cartaz&lt;br /&gt;A gente não cai, não&lt;br /&gt;Ê! Ê!&lt;br /&gt;Ele não é de nada&lt;br /&gt;Oiá!!!&lt;br /&gt;Essa cara amarrada&lt;br /&gt;É só&lt;br /&gt;Um jeito de viver na pior&lt;br /&gt;Ê! Ê!&lt;br /&gt;Ele não é de nada&lt;br /&gt;Oiá!!!&lt;br /&gt;Essa cara amarrada&lt;br /&gt;É só&lt;br /&gt;Um jeito de viver nesse mundo de mágoas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-1780709881594637678?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1780709881594637678/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-ele-no-vai-mais-dobrar-pode-at-se.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1780709881594637678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1780709881594637678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-ele-no-vai-mais-dobrar-pode-at-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-7562117961467183114</id><published>2008-04-06T23:06:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:17:51.603-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/R_mCZARf4VI/AAAAAAAAAHI/XlWmF5DaG9U/s1600-h/Olho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186319811975569746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/R_mCZARf4VI/AAAAAAAAAHI/XlWmF5DaG9U/s320/Olho.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quando você piscou por mim o aroma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me despertou de um estado de coma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quando você partiu pra mim o embaraço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Deu ferrugem nos meus nervos de aço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Meus olhos de raio x cegaram de medo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pois tua alma é de chumbo e segredo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quando você ciscou por mim, indecisa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eu fui a razão do riso da Monalisa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quando você sorriu pra mim um beijo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Na hora "H" foi como detonar a bomba do meu desejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Meus olhos de raio x cegaram de medo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pois tua alma é de chumbo e segredo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Meus olhos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Meus olhos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Meus olhos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Meus olhos de raio x...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lenine - O Homem dos olhos de raio x&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/7398440439295209164-7562117961467183114?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/7562117961467183114/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/04/quando-voc-piscou-por-mim-o-aroma-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7562117961467183114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7562117961467183114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/04/quando-voc-piscou-por-mim-o-aroma-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/R_mCZARf4VI/AAAAAAAAAHI/XlWmF5DaG9U/s72-c/Olho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-5600067106049409594</id><published>2008-03-11T00:57:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:18:08.043-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/R9YJzF-YwTI/AAAAAAAAAF0/wgS3V-eQvZM/s1600-h/C%C3%B3pia+de+Ensaio+Godspell+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176335595090788658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/R9YJzF-YwTI/AAAAAAAAAF0/wgS3V-eQvZM/s320/C%C3%B3pia+de+Ensaio+Godspell+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/R9YJWl-YwSI/AAAAAAAAAFs/bzVxmjcNZlA/s1600-h/C%C3%B3pia+de+Ensaio+Godspell+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Eu levo essa canção de amor dançante pra você lembrar&lt;br /&gt;de mim, seu coração lembrar de mim&lt;br /&gt;na confusão do dia-a-dia no sufoco de uma dúvida,&lt;br /&gt;na dor de qualquer coisa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;É só tocar essa balada de swing inabalável que é o&lt;br /&gt;oásis do amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Eu vou dizendo na sequência bem clichê&lt;br /&gt;eu preciso de você&lt;br /&gt;E força antiga do espírito virando convivência de&lt;br /&gt;amizade apaixonada&lt;br /&gt;Sonho, sexo, paixão&lt;br /&gt;Vontade gêmea de ficar e não pensar em nada&lt;br /&gt;Planejando pra fazer acontecer ou simplesmente&lt;br /&gt;refinando essa amizade&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou dizendo na sequência bem clichê&lt;br /&gt;eu preciso de você&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que a gente se separe por uns tempos ou quando&lt;br /&gt;você quiser lembrar de mim&lt;br /&gt;Toque a balada do amor inabalável&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;swing de amor nesse planeta&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que a gente se separe por uns tempos ou quando&lt;br /&gt;você quiser lembrar de mim&lt;br /&gt;Toque a balada seja antes ou depois,&lt;br /&gt;eterna Love Song de nós dois&lt;br /&gt;Leva essa canção de amor dançante pra você lembrar de&lt;br /&gt;mim, seu coração lembrar de mim&lt;br /&gt;Na confusão do dia-a-dia no sufoco de uma dúvida,&lt;br /&gt;Na dor de qualquer coisa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Skank - Balada Do Amor InabaláVel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-5600067106049409594?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/5600067106049409594/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/03/eu-levo-essa-cano-de-amor-danante-pra.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5600067106049409594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/5600067106049409594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/03/eu-levo-essa-cano-de-amor-danante-pra.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/R9YJzF-YwTI/AAAAAAAAAF0/wgS3V-eQvZM/s72-c/C%C3%B3pia+de+Ensaio+Godspell+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-8636336005759095800</id><published>2008-03-05T00:41:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:18:24.173-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O eterno "se" de nossas vidas...&lt;br /&gt;Que tantas vezes atrapalha&lt;br /&gt;E outras que salva...&lt;br /&gt;Hoje sem poesia&lt;br /&gt;Mas não sem sentimento...&lt;br /&gt;Eu me pergunto:&lt;br /&gt;"Se", "se", "se"?&lt;br /&gt;É um círculo...&lt;br /&gt;Não importa quanto você ande...&lt;br /&gt;Sempre volta pro mesmo lugar&lt;br /&gt;E acaba de ponta cabeça...&lt;br /&gt;Nisso...&lt;br /&gt;... Há medo e há paixão...&lt;br /&gt;... E sempre a solidão...&lt;br /&gt;Mas o medo é o pior dos "se"&lt;br /&gt;O medo de "se" eu ficar sozinha...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-8636336005759095800?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/8636336005759095800/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/03/o-eterno-se-de-nossas-vidas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8636336005759095800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8636336005759095800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/03/o-eterno-se-de-nossas-vidas.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-8904377300001989557</id><published>2008-03-05T00:36:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:18:40.677-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você disse que não sabe se não&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas também não tem certeza que sim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quer saber?&lt;br /&gt;Quando é assim&lt;br /&gt;Deixa vir do coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você sabe que eu só penso em você&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você diz só que vive pensando em mim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pode ser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se é assim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você tem que largar a mão do não&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soltar essa louca, arder de paixão&lt;br /&gt;Não há como doer pra decidir&lt;br /&gt;Só dizer sim ou não&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas você adora um se...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu levo a sério mas você disfarça&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Você me diz à beça e eu nessa de horror&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E me remete ao frio que vem lá do sul&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Insiste em zero a zero &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e eu quero um a um&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sei lá o que te dá, não quer meu calor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São Jorge por favor me empresta o dragão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mais fácil aprender japonês em braile&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do que você decidir se dá ou não.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Djavan - Se...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-8904377300001989557?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/8904377300001989557/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/03/voc-disse-que-no-sabe-se-no-mas-tambm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8904377300001989557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/8904377300001989557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/03/voc-disse-que-no-sabe-se-no-mas-tambm.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-6810472738672680308</id><published>2008-03-01T03:23:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:19:01.758-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/R8j26On3L9I/AAAAAAAAAFk/V4zYTc_191A/s1600-h/Dj+Club+058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172655652253151186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/R8j26On3L9I/AAAAAAAAAFk/V4zYTc_191A/s320/Dj+Club+058.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Poeta,&lt;br /&gt;Poetiza,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Poetizando...&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/7398440439295209164-6810472738672680308?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/6810472738672680308/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/03/poeta-poetiza-poetizando.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6810472738672680308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/6810472738672680308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/03/poeta-poetiza-poetizando.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OF9E9ke8xEs/R8j26On3L9I/AAAAAAAAAFk/V4zYTc_191A/s72-c/Dj+Club+058.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-7657636608342460331</id><published>2008-03-01T02:56:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:19:15.958-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;ESSE POEMA FOI ESCRITO POR MIM E PELO MEU GRANDE AMIGO, ATOR, ILUMINADOR, GUERRILHEIRO E POETA YURI CUMER, SURGIU DE UMA BRINCADEIRA PELO MSN. UM ENVIAVA UMA OU DUAS LINHAS DO POEMA E O OUTRO ENVIAVA OUTRAS. AS LINHAS EM AZUL SÃO DO YURI, AS LINHAS EM VERDE SÃO MINHAS (LARA WEBER). POETA, POETIZA, POETIZANDO...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Teu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;e &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Meu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;No findavel azul do mar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;entre montanhas e vales...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;a transição dos ventos me arde o corpo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;não sei se arde de frio ou de calor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sim! é uma questão de frescor e rancor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;de saudade e de amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ou seria por mero medo do novo ??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Novo hora passa .. e como passa !!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;passa como a água que escorre pelas mãos&lt;br /&gt;como o sangue que tinge meu corpo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;e me faz mulher sem dono&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;e homem sem sono&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e animal sem lua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;e sombra sem luz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Expressão fosca na luz, que apenas reluz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;que me lembra a pintura de meus sonhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;aqueles de dormir e aqueles de acordar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;que tento estalar pra despertar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;do cansaço do dia, que não é mais dia ... noite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;e os sonhos de viver, onde estão?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;No "quebra-nozes" de nossas cabeças !!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;E na cabeça dos destemidos e dos fracos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;soberbos ou desnutridos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;e os meus sonhos, por onde vão?&lt;br /&gt;por tua face e teus cabelos, talvez...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;não ... vão para o vão das coisas&lt;br /&gt;do fiapo de tempo, fora de discernimento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;vão do vivido, ao esquecimento...&lt;br /&gt;seu e não meu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Seu teu, tua verdade nua&lt;br /&gt;esquecimento não há e vive-se já !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;A verdade que pra sempre fere&lt;br /&gt;viver-te infinitamente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;"infinitamente" não é demasiadamente corriqueiro ??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;talvez, mas exprime a imensidão de um sentimento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;sentimento num peito vazio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;vazio de paixão, de choro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e que me fez pensar no findavel dor mar, ele pode ser sim&lt;br /&gt;Infinito ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Infinito em vida e morte...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ele sempre estará ali...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;29/02/08 concluído as 04:46&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/7398440439295209164-7657636608342460331?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/7657636608342460331/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/03/esse-poema-foi-escrito-por-mim-e-pelo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7657636608342460331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/7657636608342460331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/03/esse-poema-foi-escrito-por-mim-e-pelo.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-1534723652988445554</id><published>2008-02-29T02:01:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:19:43.532-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O caminho que traço, não é o que eu escolhi&lt;br /&gt;Derrepente tudo parece tão diferente&lt;br /&gt;O cinza ganha um leve tom violeta&lt;br /&gt;Ou será azul?&lt;br /&gt;Você se foi e as farpas voltaram&lt;br /&gt;Ou será que nunca se foram?&lt;br /&gt;É tanto sangue que me cega&lt;br /&gt;A dor ata minhas mãos&lt;br /&gt;A mágoa seca minha alma&lt;br /&gt;O que foi que saiu errado?&lt;br /&gt;Mas há uma luz&lt;br /&gt;Uma luz que ilumina um caminho&lt;br /&gt;Que me mostra que há algo além&lt;br /&gt;Tem alguém aí?&lt;br /&gt;Meu corpo ganha vida própria&lt;br /&gt;Minhas ações parecem agir por conta&lt;br /&gt;Parece tudo tão novo&lt;br /&gt;Tudo tão perto, mas tão longe&lt;br /&gt;Tantas descobertas em meio a risos e lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;Tudo tão confuso&lt;br /&gt;É quase aquela realidade intermediária&lt;br /&gt;E tudo me faz querer viver&lt;br /&gt;Viver mais&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo ferida e ainda enferma&lt;br /&gt;Vejo que tudo é diferente&lt;br /&gt;Existe uma luz&lt;br /&gt;O mundo gira tão rápido&lt;br /&gt;Mas ainda está surdo&lt;br /&gt;Parece tudo tão novo&lt;br /&gt;Ainda sinto frio&lt;br /&gt;Mas o cobertor está ao meu alcance&lt;br /&gt;Basta apenas esticar o braço&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/7398440439295209164-1534723652988445554?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/1534723652988445554/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/02/o-caminho-que-trao-no-o-que-eu-escolhi.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1534723652988445554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/1534723652988445554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/02/o-caminho-que-trao-no-o-que-eu-escolhi.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-739945353789200000</id><published>2008-02-29T01:58:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:20:30.642-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pelos próximos minutos, instantes, segundos&lt;br /&gt;Tentarei não pensar&lt;br /&gt;Nesse quebra- cabeça infinito&lt;br /&gt;De peças ásperas e pontiagudas que tento montar incessantemente&lt;br /&gt;Talvez sejam de vidro, de sombras, de sobras&lt;br /&gt;Ou talvez seja um coração&lt;br /&gt;Quieto, pálido, obscuro&lt;br /&gt;As peças não se encaixam&lt;br /&gt;A figura que a vida quer me mostrar não fica perfeita&lt;br /&gt;Sempre disforme, sempre algo falta&lt;br /&gt;Querer demais? Talvez.&lt;br /&gt;Sonhar de menos? Não, isso não.&lt;br /&gt;Sonhar é a única coisa que meu quebra-cabeça me permite&lt;br /&gt;Olhando de longe, tudo parece estar bem&lt;br /&gt;De perto é tudo vazio, frio&lt;br /&gt;A sensação que fica é de que algumas peças estão fora do lugar&lt;br /&gt;Mas agora é tarde&lt;br /&gt;O tempo não permite que eu o conserte&lt;br /&gt;E é pela porta de meus olhos que vejo novas peças chegarem&lt;br /&gt;Só resta saber onde elas se encaixam...&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/7398440439295209164-739945353789200000?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/739945353789200000/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/02/pelos-prximos-minutos-instantes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/739945353789200000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/739945353789200000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/02/pelos-prximos-minutos-instantes.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398440439295209164.post-4315127728792718817</id><published>2008-02-19T17:04:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:20:48.761-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não sou escravo de ninguém&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém senhor do meu domínio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Sei o que devo defender&lt;br /&gt;E por valor eu tenho&lt;br /&gt;E temo o que agora se desfaz&lt;br /&gt;Viajamos sete léguas&lt;br /&gt;Por entre abismos e florestas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Por Deus nunca me vi tão só&lt;br /&gt;É a própria fé o que destrói&lt;br /&gt;Estes são dias desleais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eu sou metal&lt;br /&gt;Raio, relâmpago e trovão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Eu sou metal&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou o ouro em seu brasão&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou metal&lt;br /&gt;Sabe-me o sopro do dragão&lt;br /&gt;Reconheço meu pesar&lt;br /&gt;Quando tudo é traição&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que venho encontrar&lt;br /&gt;É a virtude em outras mãos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Minha terra é a terra que é minha&lt;br /&gt;E sempre será&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Minha terra&lt;br /&gt;Tem a lua, tem estrelas&lt;br /&gt;E sempre terá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quase acreditei na tua promessa&lt;br /&gt;E o que vejo é fome e destruição&lt;br /&gt;Perdi a minha sela e a minha espada&lt;br /&gt;Perdi o meu castelo e minha princesa&lt;br /&gt;Quase acreditei, quase acreditei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;E, por honra, se existir verdade&lt;br /&gt;Existem os tolos e existe o ladrão&lt;br /&gt;E há quem se alimente do que é roubo.&lt;br /&gt;Mas vou guardar o meu tesouro&lt;br /&gt;Caso você esteja mentindo.&lt;br /&gt;Olha o sopro do dragão&lt;br /&gt;É a verdade o que assombra&lt;br /&gt;O descaso que condena&lt;br /&gt;A estupidez o que destrói&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo tudo que se foi&lt;br /&gt;E o que não existe mais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tenho os sentidos já dormentes&lt;br /&gt;O corpo quer, a alma entende&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Esta é a terra-de-ninguém&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sei que devo resistir&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero a espada em minhas mãos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Eu sou metal - raio, relâmpago e trovão&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou metal: eu sou o ouro em seu brasão&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou metal: me sabe o sopro do dragão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não me entrego sem lutar&lt;br /&gt;Tenho ainda coração&lt;br /&gt;Não aprendi a me render&lt;br /&gt;Que caia o inimigo então&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tudo passa&lt;br /&gt;Tudo passará&lt;br /&gt;E nossa história&lt;br /&gt;Não estará&lt;br /&gt;Pelo avesso assim&lt;br /&gt;Sem final feliz&lt;br /&gt;Teremos coisas bonitas pra contar&lt;br /&gt;E até lá&lt;br /&gt;Vamos viver&lt;br /&gt;Temos muito ainda por fazer&lt;br /&gt;Não olhe pra trás&lt;br /&gt;Apenas começamos&lt;br /&gt;O mundo começa agora, ahh!&lt;br /&gt;Apenas começamos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Legião Urbana - Metal Contra as Nuvens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7398440439295209164-4315127728792718817?l=larinhaweber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/feeds/4315127728792718817/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/02/no-sou-escravo-de-ningum-ningum-senhor.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4315127728792718817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7398440439295209164/posts/default/4315127728792718817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://larinhaweber.blogspot.com/2008/02/no-sou-escravo-de-ningum-ningum-senhor.html' title=''/><author><name>Lara Weber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15121221309947472244</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j3iV489NaTk/ThEzz3nlXJI/AAAAAAAAApo/w9XwJDT7OI0/s220/198549_1826211687871_1017657625_2087231_2073025_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
