<?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-8306879895190749851</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:40:15.345Z</updated><title type='text'>Essência</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-5242244538874114436</id><published>2009-04-14T20:41:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T20:46:39.433+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vai ser sempre assim ..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SeTn-Fkeg-I/AAAAAAAAAHM/1DDXwFAUbwk/s1600-h/divorcio-can.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SeTn-Fkeg-I/AAAAAAAAAHM/1DDXwFAUbwk/s320/divorcio-can.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324635713291846626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-5242244538874114436?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/5242244538874114436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=5242244538874114436' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5242244538874114436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5242244538874114436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2009/04/vai-ser-sempre-assim.html' title='Vai ser sempre assim ..'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SeTn-Fkeg-I/AAAAAAAAAHM/1DDXwFAUbwk/s72-c/divorcio-can.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-7733475748137900751</id><published>2008-08-15T00:44:00.015+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T01:26:44.483+01:00</updated><title type='text'>EUA &amp; Canadá</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SKTGnYFvOVI/AAAAAAAAAEw/yi1rBm3t2PI/s1600-h/mapa-america-norte.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234527046695074130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SKTGnYFvOVI/AAAAAAAAAEw/yi1rBm3t2PI/s320/mapa-america-norte.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De dia 15 a 24 de Agosto encontro-me na &lt;strong&gt;América do Norte!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&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%;"&gt;Levanto voo dia 15 às 8h20. &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Vou começar por estar nos Estados Unidos, conhecendo portanto &lt;strong&gt;NEW YORK :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234526191943926322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SKTF1n5LwjI/AAAAAAAAAEg/vA6eeujG3VU/s320/NY.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;De seguida vou para &lt;strong&gt;NIAGARA:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234527740985891650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SKTHPyhkW0I/AAAAAAAAAE4/V--DAXc6Vkg/s320/Niagara-Falls-Flow.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Passando para o Canadá, vou a &lt;strong&gt;TORONTO &lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234528714172304754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SKTIIb7SjXI/AAAAAAAAAFA/Af2sFu7hsZU/s320/toronto.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Ainda no Canadá -&lt;strong&gt; FILADELFIA&lt;/strong&gt; : &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234529780135009762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SKTJGe8mneI/AAAAAAAAAFI/sQWJgzVHFSc/s320/filadelfia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Ah é verdade, antes de passar para o Canadá, ainda vou a &lt;strong&gt;WASHINGTON :&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234530218085697906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SKTJf-cLyXI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/EY4Y3Emjn0k/s320/Washington_DC_Monument_White_House.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Regresso dia 24 por volta das 15 horas.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Bye Bye ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-7733475748137900751?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/7733475748137900751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=7733475748137900751' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7733475748137900751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7733475748137900751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/08/eua-canad.html' title='EUA &amp; Canadá'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SKTGnYFvOVI/AAAAAAAAAEw/yi1rBm3t2PI/s72-c/mapa-america-norte.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-7621919435702046198</id><published>2008-08-04T01:34:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:56.121Z</updated><title type='text'>. Sudoeste</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SJZOkKPbU7I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ILemb9D7hIA/s1600-h/sw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230454400368726962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SJZOkKPbU7I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ILemb9D7hIA/s320/sw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De 4 a 11 de Agosto encontro-me no SUDOESTE !!&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/8306879895190749851-7621919435702046198?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/7621919435702046198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=7621919435702046198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7621919435702046198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7621919435702046198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/08/sudoeste.html' title='. Sudoeste'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SJZOkKPbU7I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ILemb9D7hIA/s72-c/sw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-8252607902052449115</id><published>2008-08-04T01:26:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T01:32:58.357+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Next ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Vila Nova de Mil Fontes @&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Portimão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Next ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;SUDOESTE !!&lt;/span&gt;&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/8306879895190749851-8252607902052449115?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/8252607902052449115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=8252607902052449115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/8252607902052449115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/8252607902052449115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/08/next.html' title='Next ?'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-1924624562164862003</id><published>2008-07-11T15:02:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:56.276Z</updated><title type='text'>09.07.08             ! 19 Anos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SHdq99YwcdI/AAAAAAAAAEA/sS_W_4E3-iI/s1600-h/IMG_4622.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221759905642344914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SHdq99YwcdI/AAAAAAAAAEA/sS_W_4E3-iI/s320/IMG_4622.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Para aqueles que se lembraram. &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Para aqueles que mandaram mensagem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Para aqueles que ligaram.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Para aqueles que me abraçaram.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;E especialmente para aqueles que conseguiram pôr-me um sorriso na cara.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;. OBRIGADO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;19. Marcou.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-1924624562164862003?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/1924624562164862003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=1924624562164862003' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/1924624562164862003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/1924624562164862003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/07/090708.html' title='09.07.08             ! 19 Anos'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SHdq99YwcdI/AAAAAAAAAEA/sS_W_4E3-iI/s72-c/IMG_4622.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-2568058347292036706</id><published>2008-07-03T13:34:00.013+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:56.474Z</updated><title type='text'>4. 07. 08</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SGzJ-KvKBuI/AAAAAAAAADo/rPZE0wHew6w/s1600-h/montagem.GIF"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218768138086778594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 415px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 126px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="154" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SGzJ-KvKBuI/AAAAAAAAADo/rPZE0wHew6w/s400/montagem.GIF" width="430" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hoje, dia quatro de Junho de 2008, é um dia muito especial - um dos meus &lt;strong&gt;Melhores Amigos&lt;/strong&gt; faz dezoito anos. E como tal decidi dedicar-lhe alguma coisa, não só porque faz anos mas pela pessoa, pelo &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Amigo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;que tem sido desde Sempre.&lt;br /&gt;Para quem não conhece o João, ele chegou a Lisboa á três anos mas só á dois é que nos falamos. Sim, porque no primeiro ano aqui a Ju nem lhe virava a cara. Conheci-o nos escuteiros, ainda nos pioneiros.&lt;br /&gt;A verdade é que hoje somos &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Grandes Amigos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, e tenho tanta coisa para lhe agradecer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao longo deste tempo o João tornou-se uma pessoa muito especial para mim.&lt;br /&gt;Como aconteceu?&lt;br /&gt;Não houve um processo, a Amizade não tem um processo pré determinado. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Simplesmente cresce, cresce, e vai dando os seus frutos.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje, já não consigo passar muito tempo sem pelo menos perguntar se está tudo bem, se precisa de alguma coisa. Às vezes simplesmente para mandar um beijinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tenho-te a dizer, a ti João,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;obrigado &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;pelos sorrisos, os abraços, os momentos, as conversas, o ombro amigo que sempre me deste, as lágrimas que sempre me secas-te, as palavras certas nos momentos certos, as festas, as lições de vida, os sermões sempre tão certos, os alertas sempre com fundamentos, o carinho, a cumplicidade, os segredos que me confiaste e os que guardas-te, a partilha sem limites, a Tua Amizade pura.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;Obrigado, és essencial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continua a ser a pessoa espectacular que és, com essa &lt;strong&gt;Força&lt;/strong&gt; tão característica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mereces Tanto e Tudo.&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;Parabéns !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um Grande Beijo e um Grande Abraço de alguém que te Ama,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. Joana Duarte, a tua Timon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“ So pumba, pumba stand by me .. “&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/8306879895190749851-2568058347292036706?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/2568058347292036706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=2568058347292036706' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/2568058347292036706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/2568058347292036706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/07/5-07-08.html' title='4. 07. 08'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SGzJ-KvKBuI/AAAAAAAAADo/rPZE0wHew6w/s72-c/montagem.GIF' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-3248205701495419376</id><published>2008-06-23T20:11:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:56.693Z</updated><title type='text'>. Proporções</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SF_67WM9zuI/AAAAAAAAADg/sSv4qQl79XQ/s1600-h/klee-abraco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215162790997511906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SF_67WM9zuI/AAAAAAAAADg/sSv4qQl79XQ/s320/klee-abraco.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Assimetrias tão simétricas.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que vos parece?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(  É tudo uma questão de abstracção !  )&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/8306879895190749851-3248205701495419376?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/3248205701495419376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=3248205701495419376' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/3248205701495419376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/3248205701495419376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/06/propores.html' title='. Proporções'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SF_67WM9zuI/AAAAAAAAADg/sSv4qQl79XQ/s72-c/klee-abraco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-3889995486692549639</id><published>2008-06-14T00:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T00:39:49.784+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Olho em volta e sinto-me a mais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;Descontextualizada&lt;/strong&gt;, coisa deste género &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-3889995486692549639?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/3889995486692549639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=3889995486692549639' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/3889995486692549639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/3889995486692549639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/06/olho-em-volta-e-sinto-me-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-789442120875726085</id><published>2008-06-06T00:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:57.218Z</updated><title type='text'>. Lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SEh3p3cor9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/MEAztvg7hOg/s1600-h/DSCF0720.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208544530196377554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SEh3p3cor9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/MEAztvg7hOg/s320/DSCF0720.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Just because I'm losing&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Doesn't mean I'm lost &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Doesn't mean I'll stop&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Doesn't mean I will cross&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Just because I'm hurting &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Doesn't mean I'm hurt &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserve &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No better and no worse&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just got lost &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Every river that I've tried to cross &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And every door I ever tried was locked&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You might be a big fish&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In a little pond &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Doesn't mean you've won&lt;br /&gt;'Cause along may come &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A bigger one &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And you'll be lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Every river that you tried to cross&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Every gun you ever held went off &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ooh-Oh, And &lt;strong&gt;I'm just waiting till the firing starts &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ooh-Oh, And &lt;strong&gt;I'm just waiting till the shine wears off..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;. LOST &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Find me&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/8306879895190749851-789442120875726085?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/789442120875726085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=789442120875726085' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/789442120875726085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/789442120875726085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/06/lost.html' title='. Lost'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SEh3p3cor9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/MEAztvg7hOg/s72-c/DSCF0720.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-5876776413853478940</id><published>2008-06-03T15:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:57.345Z</updated><title type='text'>. Sarnas, o gatinho cheio de sorte</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SEVUfncor8I/AAAAAAAAADI/E9FhugIMHig/s1600-h/Img006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207661446265614274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SEVUfncor8I/AAAAAAAAADI/E9FhugIMHig/s320/Img006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. Sarnas, o gatinho cheio de sorte &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarnas, é o novo morador cá da casa.&lt;br /&gt;Foi encontrado por mim, pela patinho feio e pela Camélia, no pneu do meu carro que se encontrava estacionado no parque de estacionamento da faculdade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Miava encantadoramente alto, como quem pressentia que ali tinha era o local certo para estar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Precisava que o vissem.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Encontrei-o. Agarrei-o. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Coube na palma da minha mão. Dei-lhe colo.&lt;/div&gt;Os seus grandes olhos azuis &lt;strong&gt;brilhavam&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;Ronronava&lt;/strong&gt; de satisfação. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não resisti. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Trouxe-o para casa. Dei-lhe comida, água e uma caminha quentinha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Quem não achou muita piada foi o gato rei da casa, mas hoje até já brincam e dormem juntos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Deixou de ser um gato viralata. &lt;strong&gt;Hoje tem um lar.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pessoas que lhe dêem afecto. E mais, um companheiro para as horas vagas! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Estava no local certo, à hora certa. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. Sarnas, o gatinho cheio de sorte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;28.05.2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Pequenos gestos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(Até os gatos precisam de sorte!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-5876776413853478940?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/5876776413853478940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=5876776413853478940' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5876776413853478940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5876776413853478940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/06/sarnas-o-gatinho-cheio-de-sorte.html' title='. Sarnas, o gatinho cheio de sorte'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SEVUfncor8I/AAAAAAAAADI/E9FhugIMHig/s72-c/Img006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-6487972299237168912</id><published>2008-05-22T23:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:57.691Z</updated><title type='text'>; Sê Paciente</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SDXufjM-nTI/AAAAAAAAADA/k_nRtiRaS4g/s1600-h/Sem+tÃ&amp;shy;tulo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203327170289507634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SDXufjM-nTI/AAAAAAAAADA/k_nRtiRaS4g/s320/Sem+t%C3%ADtulo.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sê paciente;&lt;br /&gt;espera que a palavra amadureça&lt;br /&gt;e se desprenda como um fruto&lt;br /&gt;ao passar o vento que &lt;strong&gt;a mereça.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eugénio de Andrade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-6487972299237168912?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/6487972299237168912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=6487972299237168912' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/6487972299237168912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/6487972299237168912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/05/s-paciente.html' title='; Sê Paciente'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SDXufjM-nTI/AAAAAAAAADA/k_nRtiRaS4g/s72-c/Sem+t%C3%ADtulo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-8539092051503569448</id><published>2008-05-04T03:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:57.894Z</updated><title type='text'>. A Minha Conchinha</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0qs-b2bZI/AAAAAAAAACs/SpGvFqZRveU/s1600-h/sem+tÃ&amp;shy;tulo.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196356497217842578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0qs-b2bZI/AAAAAAAAACs/SpGvFqZRveU/s320/sem+t%C3%ADtulo.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Adoro a minha conchinha. Adoro viver nela.&lt;br /&gt;É dura. Está no fundo do oceano, assente na areia. Por vezes enterra-se, depende da maré.&lt;br /&gt;Os seres do oceano não conseguem chegar ao seu interior. Protege-me. Passa despercebida. Não incomoda ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;Guardo nela o meu Mundo.&lt;br /&gt;As minhas coisinhas. Os meus segredinhos. Os meus suspiros.&lt;br /&gt;Os meus tesouros perdidos, as minhas pérolas preciosas, as minhas ideias, pensamentos, sentimentos, desabafos, sonhos, desejos, vontades e caprichos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As minhas memórias e recordações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Guardo-me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É um Mundo fechado e inacessível.&lt;br /&gt;Vivi em tempos numa concha, no fundo do oceano.&lt;br /&gt;Deixei-a. Senti saudades.&lt;br /&gt;Regressei ao meu lar. Ao meu Abrigo.&lt;br /&gt;Sou feliz assim. Na minha concha, no fundo do oceano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Sitiozinho de onde nunca devia ter saído.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;. Adoro-a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/8306879895190749851-8539092051503569448?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/8539092051503569448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=8539092051503569448' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/8539092051503569448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/8539092051503569448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/05/minha-conchinha.html' title='. A Minha Conchinha'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0qs-b2bZI/AAAAAAAAACs/SpGvFqZRveU/s72-c/sem+t%C3%ADtulo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-7816422986526489319</id><published>2008-04-28T21:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:58.169Z</updated><title type='text'>. Expressão de mim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SBY1AOb2bYI/AAAAAAAAACk/cKq6zPxjdQ4/s1600-h/IMG_5419.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194397498209627522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SBY1AOb2bYI/AAAAAAAAACk/cKq6zPxjdQ4/s320/IMG_5419.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Interior irrequieto. Interior aos gritos. Interior a explodir.&lt;br /&gt;. Expressão de mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. Não quero mais palavras rasgadas&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/8306879895190749851-7816422986526489319?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/7816422986526489319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=7816422986526489319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7816422986526489319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7816422986526489319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/04/expresso-de-mim.html' title='. Expressão de mim'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SBY1AOb2bYI/AAAAAAAAACk/cKq6zPxjdQ4/s72-c/IMG_5419.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-5622632973921968728</id><published>2008-04-09T17:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T20:16:35.274+01:00</updated><title type='text'>? Why</title><content type='html'>.. And if you have a minute why don't we go&lt;br /&gt;Talk about it somewhere only we know?&lt;br /&gt;This could be the end of everything&lt;br /&gt;So why don't we go somewhere only we know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. Time is running out and I'm getting tired&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-5622632973921968728?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/5622632973921968728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=5622632973921968728' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5622632973921968728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5622632973921968728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/04/why.html' title='? Why'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-7298066633580551694</id><published>2008-04-06T19:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T20:03:33.789+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Perfect Day</title><content type='html'>I'm holdin' on&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for your call&lt;br /&gt;It's simple but I can't explain this&lt;br /&gt;I'm sinking down&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I could die&lt;br /&gt;I'm fallin' off I don't know why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still believe it when you say it's another perfect day, another perfect day&lt;br /&gt;I still believe it when you say it's another perfect day, another perfect day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I might try to leave it all behind&lt;br /&gt;I know tomorrows not so bright now&lt;br /&gt;I'll say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;'Cause nothing good can last&lt;br /&gt;You wear and fade your no where fast&lt;br /&gt;But today&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how&lt;br /&gt;To keep it all inside&lt;br /&gt;But i guess I'll let it slide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still believe it when you say it's another perfect day, another perfect day&lt;br /&gt;I still believe it when you say it's another perfect day, another perfect day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I don't know why&lt;br /&gt;I thought that it was real&lt;br /&gt;But I guess it's no big deal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still believe it when you say it's another perfect day, another perfect day&lt;br /&gt;I still believe it when you say it's another perfect day, another perfect day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to let it slide..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-7298066633580551694?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/7298066633580551694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=7298066633580551694' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7298066633580551694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7298066633580551694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/04/another-perfect-day.html' title='Another Perfect Day'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-354625197959669450</id><published>2008-04-03T00:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T00:39:02.707+01:00</updated><title type='text'>.?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;Após uma longa conversa, alguém me perguntou:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Pelo que esperas tu?&lt;br /&gt;Porque é que ainda esperas?&lt;br /&gt;Será que o teu esforço não estará a ser em vão?&lt;br /&gt;Será que o teu esforço é merecido?&lt;br /&gt;Deveria este ser teu? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olhei para o infinito das estrelas.&lt;br /&gt;(na esperança inútil de uma resposta, provavelmente)&lt;br /&gt;Pensei. A minha cabeça estava a mil. Pensei. Senti uma picada angustiante no coração. Pensei mais um tempo.&lt;br /&gt;Respirei fundo. Suspirei.&lt;br /&gt;Olhei para baixo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eis a minha resposta:&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;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;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;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;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;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;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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#990000;"&gt;(silêncio)&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/8306879895190749851-354625197959669450?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/354625197959669450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=354625197959669450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/354625197959669450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/354625197959669450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title='.?'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-877809916645653161</id><published>2008-03-27T20:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:58.800Z</updated><title type='text'>. SOS Balão</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R-wBnOPzOzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/cBuLFB328is/s1600-h/Baloes1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182519044547492658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R-wBnOPzOzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/cBuLFB328is/s320/Baloes1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sinto-me um balão cheio de ar.&lt;br /&gt;No entanto, sinto que estou a perder esse ar devagarinho,&lt;br /&gt;lentamente,&lt;br /&gt;vagarosamente,&lt;br /&gt;pausadamente,&lt;br /&gt;calmamente,&lt;br /&gt;paulatinamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que, a mais pequena agulha vai rebentar comigo.&lt;br /&gt;E sei que o tempo vai acabar por me tirar todo o ar que me resta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qual será a solução?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Será acabar de vez com tudo, e rebentar o balão?&lt;br /&gt;Será ir enchendo, à medida que vai esvaziando?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Será esperar (em vão) que rajadas de vento, de vez em quando, me encham milimétricamente?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ou será simplesmente deixar que o tempo trate de tudo, até que me torne num balão vazio? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-877809916645653161?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/877809916645653161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=877809916645653161' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/877809916645653161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/877809916645653161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/03/sos-balo.html' title='. SOS Balão'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R-wBnOPzOzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/cBuLFB328is/s72-c/Baloes1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-3573108698729649306</id><published>2008-03-26T20:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:58.989Z</updated><title type='text'>. Não Sou</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R-q2t-PzOyI/AAAAAAAAABs/bKYGmJx3EfY/s1600-h/salsicha_nobre_10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182155222162815778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R-q2t-PzOyI/AAAAAAAAABs/bKYGmJx3EfY/s320/salsicha_nobre_10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sou comida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não sou alimento.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não sou pão que dura cerca de três dias!&lt;br /&gt;Não sou lata de conserva, que dura fechada. Dura e dura. Mas até essa tem prazo de validade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Melhor, não sou tipo lata de salsicha que se abre, tira-se uma e logo de seguida se coloca no fundo, bem lá no fundo do frigorífico. Aberta. De vez em quando se vai buscar mais uma. E outra.&lt;br /&gt;Até que fica esquecida. A estragar, porque nem no frio se dura eternamente. E ainda, com montes de comida á frente que ajudam a deixar cair no esquecimento. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A estragar no tempo.&lt;br /&gt;Perdida no tempo.&lt;br /&gt;Esquecida no tempo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até que alguém se lembra:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"AH as salsichas!", e quando se vai a ver já não estão comestíveis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;O que acontece a seguir?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Vão para o lixo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se por acaso for (ou me considerarem) salsicha, ao menos que seja da marca Nobre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nini e Rita : &lt;strong&gt;O b r i g a d o .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-3573108698729649306?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/3573108698729649306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=3573108698729649306' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/3573108698729649306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/3573108698729649306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/03/no-sou.html' title='. Não Sou'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R-q2t-PzOyI/AAAAAAAAABs/bKYGmJx3EfY/s72-c/salsicha_nobre_10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-252748194674289254</id><published>2008-03-22T12:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:59.088Z</updated><title type='text'>. Olhar as Estrelas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R-T6kuPzOxI/AAAAAAAAABk/GtPrGqThSiE/s1600-h/Estrelas-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180540980179450642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R-T6kuPzOxI/AAAAAAAAABk/GtPrGqThSiE/s320/Estrelas-thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Porque olhar as estrelas &lt;strong&gt;D&lt;/strong&gt;aquela maneira voltou a ter sentido.&lt;br /&gt;Porque &lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt;quele&lt;strong&gt; A&lt;/strong&gt;braço voltou mais forte e sentido que nunca.&lt;br /&gt;O frio parecia não existir.&lt;br /&gt;O tempo? Esse parou por momentos.&lt;br /&gt;As respirações eram sentidas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As estrelas pareciam mais brilhantes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As palavras pouco importavam.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voltámos ao &lt;strong&gt;N&lt;/strong&gt;osso &lt;strong&gt;R&lt;/strong&gt;efúgio. As mãos enlaçaram-se.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Parecíamos &lt;strong&gt;Nós.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Metade Maior&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-252748194674289254?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/252748194674289254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=252748194674289254' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/252748194674289254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/252748194674289254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/03/olhar-as-estrelas.html' title='. Olhar as Estrelas'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R-T6kuPzOxI/AAAAAAAAABk/GtPrGqThSiE/s72-c/Estrelas-thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-5554509042061557520</id><published>2008-03-06T22:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-06T22:35:34.554Z</updated><title type='text'>Meu, Teu, Nosso</title><content type='html'>O que é meu, é teu, enquanto outro, sejas tu quem fores, representes tu o que representares, tornando o que é meu, e teu também, algo nosso?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-5554509042061557520?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/5554509042061557520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=5554509042061557520' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5554509042061557520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5554509042061557520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/03/meu-teu-nosso.html' title='Meu, Teu, Nosso'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-5967594230395409484</id><published>2008-02-26T23:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-27T20:22:10.826Z</updated><title type='text'>Começo a conhecer-me. Não existo .</title><content type='html'>Começo a conhecer-me. Não existo.&lt;br /&gt;Sou o intervalo entre o que desejo ser e o que os outros me fizeram, ou metade desse intervalo, porque também há vida ...&lt;br /&gt;Sou isso, enfim ...&lt;br /&gt;Apague a luz, feche a porta e deixe de ter barulhos de chinelos no corredor.&lt;br /&gt;Fique eu no quarto só com o grande sossego de mim mesma.&lt;br /&gt;É um universo barato.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-5967594230395409484?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/5967594230395409484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=5967594230395409484' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5967594230395409484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5967594230395409484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/02/comeo-conhecer-me-no-existo.html' title='Começo a conhecer-me. Não existo .'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-5029176381480079688</id><published>2008-02-15T18:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:59.293Z</updated><title type='text'>. Saudade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R7XcCrGcaCI/AAAAAAAAABc/CL3zObOC8PI/s1600-h/Ciel-Etoile-BG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167278085965113378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R7XcCrGcaCI/AAAAAAAAABc/CL3zObOC8PI/s320/Ciel-Etoile-BG.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tenho saudade. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tenho saudade de olhar as estrelas &lt;strong&gt;D&lt;/strong&gt;aquela maneira. Pensar que era tudo &lt;strong&gt;N&lt;/strong&gt;osso. Pensar que era o &lt;strong&gt;N&lt;/strong&gt;osso refúgio, onde as juras eram feitas. Pensar que o tempo parava, mas na verdade, andava ainda mais depressa. Não sentir frio, sentir o calorzinho do &lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt;braço, &lt;strong&gt;Daquele Abraço&lt;/strong&gt; nunca esquecido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudade de &lt;strong&gt;T&lt;/strong&gt;anto e de &lt;strong&gt;T&lt;/strong&gt;udo .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. Saudade&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/8306879895190749851-5029176381480079688?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/5029176381480079688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=5029176381480079688' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5029176381480079688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5029176381480079688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/02/saudade.html' title='. Saudade'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R7XcCrGcaCI/AAAAAAAAABc/CL3zObOC8PI/s72-c/Ciel-Etoile-BG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-7019466219315782913</id><published>2008-02-12T17:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-12T17:57:46.047Z</updated><title type='text'>Memórias .</title><content type='html'>Agarro numa folha de papel e tento escrever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagens desfocadas, ideias confusas, vultos sem forma a apoderarem-se duma simples folha de papel. Malditos. Onde pára a imaginação? Confusa com esta estranha dança de indigentes, de ideias por formular? Provavelmente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então, poiso a folha de papel. Descanso a cabeça. Alguns minutos apenas. Porque depois volto a tentar. Sucessivas tentativas falhadas. Às vezes acontece. E voltam a surgir as imagens desfocadas, as ideias confusas, os vultos sem forma. A imaginação volta a escapar-me entre os dedos, como água que corre sem controlo. Às vezes acontece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rasgo a folha de papel e tento sentir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Histórias sem sentido, emoções sem fundamento, motivos sem lógica a apoderarem-se dum simples pensamento. Malditos. Onde pára a concentração? Perdida com esta estranha mescla de visualizações, de sensações por compreender? Provavelmente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então, agarro noutra folha de papel. Descanso a alma. Alguns minutos apenas. Porque depois volto a tentar. Sucessivas tentativas falhadas. Às vezes acontece. E voltam a surgir as histórias sem sentido, as emoções sem fundamento, os motivos sem lógica. A concentração volta a fugir-me, como vento pelo corpo, como vento que anda sem sentido. Às vezes acontece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixo a folha de papel de lado, e tento me lembrar. Tento-me lembrar de mim, do que sou, do que me define. Pode ser que ajude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-7019466219315782913?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/7019466219315782913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=7019466219315782913' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7019466219315782913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7019466219315782913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/02/memrias.html' title='Memórias .'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-6953441860719202123</id><published>2008-02-11T15:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:48:59.850Z</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R7BtPbGcaBI/AAAAAAAAABU/-WysOatpnx4/s1600-h/mao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165748884334209042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R7BtPbGcaBI/AAAAAAAAABU/-WysOatpnx4/s320/mao.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tough, you think you’ve got the stuff&lt;br /&gt;You’re telling me and anyone&lt;br /&gt;You’re hard enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don’t have to put up a fight&lt;br /&gt;You don’t have to always be right&lt;br /&gt;Let me take some of the punches&lt;br /&gt;For you tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to me now&lt;br /&gt;I need to let you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You don’t have to go it alone&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it’s you when I look in the mirror&lt;br /&gt;And it’s you when I don’t pick up the phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes you can’t make it on your own&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We fight all the time&lt;br /&gt;You and I… that’s alright&lt;br /&gt;We’re the same soul&lt;br /&gt;I don’t need… I don’t need to hear you say&lt;br /&gt;That if we weren’t so alike&lt;br /&gt;You’d like me a whole lot more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to me now&lt;br /&gt;I need to let you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You don’t have to go it alone&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it’s you when I look in the mirror&lt;br /&gt;And it’s you when I don’t pick up the phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes you can’t make it on your own&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that we don’t talk&lt;br /&gt;I’m sick of it all&lt;br /&gt;Can you hear me when I sing&lt;br /&gt;You’re the reason I sing&lt;br /&gt;You’re the reason why the opera is in me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are we now?&lt;br /&gt;Still got to let you know&lt;br /&gt;A house still doesn’t make a home&lt;br /&gt;Don’t leave me here alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it’s you when I look in the mirror&lt;br /&gt;And it’s you that makes it hard to let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes you can’t make it on your own&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you can’t make it&lt;br /&gt;The best you can do is to fake it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sometimes you can’t make it on your own .&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/8306879895190749851-6953441860719202123?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/6953441860719202123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=6953441860719202123' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/6953441860719202123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/6953441860719202123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/02/sometimes-you-cant-make-it-on-your.html' title='Sometimes You Can&apos;t Make it On Your'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R7BtPbGcaBI/AAAAAAAAABU/-WysOatpnx4/s72-c/mao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-1601318706860990151</id><published>2008-02-05T21:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-05T21:48:43.687Z</updated><title type='text'>The Scientist</title><content type='html'>Come up to meet you,&lt;br /&gt;Tell you I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;You don't know how lovely you are&lt;br /&gt;I had to find you,&lt;br /&gt;Tell you I need you&lt;br /&gt;And tell you I set you apart&lt;br /&gt;Tell me your secrets,&lt;br /&gt;And ask me your questions&lt;br /&gt;Oh let's go back to the start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running in circles, coming tails&lt;br /&gt;Heads on a silence apart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy&lt;br /&gt;It's such a shame for us to part&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy&lt;br /&gt;No one ever said it would be this hard&lt;br /&gt;Oh take me back to the start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just guessing at numbers and figures&lt;br /&gt;Pulling the puzzles apart&lt;br /&gt;Questions of science, science and progress&lt;br /&gt;Do not speak as loud as my heart&lt;br /&gt;And tell me you love me,&lt;br /&gt;Come back and hold me&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I rush to the start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running in circles, Chasing tails&lt;br /&gt;Coming back as we are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy&lt;br /&gt;Oh it's such a shame for us to part&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy&lt;br /&gt;No one ever said it would be so hard&lt;br /&gt;I'm going back to the start&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-1601318706860990151?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/1601318706860990151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=1601318706860990151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/1601318706860990151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/1601318706860990151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/02/scientist.html' title='The Scientist'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-4159951485529353132</id><published>2008-01-23T19:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-23T19:34:23.907Z</updated><title type='text'>Adeus</title><content type='html'>"..&lt;br /&gt;Gastámos tudo menos o silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;Gastámos os olhos com o sal das lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;Gastámos as mãos á forca de as apertarmos,&lt;br /&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;Antigamente tinhamos tanto para dar um ao outro;&lt;br /&gt;era como se todas as coisas fossem minhas:&lt;br /&gt;quanto mais te dava mais tinha para te dar.&lt;br /&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;E eu acreditava.&lt;br /&gt;Acreditava,&lt;br /&gt;porque ao teu lado&lt;br /&gt;todas as coisas eram possiveis.&lt;br /&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;Mas isso era no tempo dos segredos,&lt;br /&gt;era no tempo em que o teu corpo era um aquário,&lt;br /&gt;era no tempo em que os meus olhos eram realmente peixes verdes.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje são apenas os meus olhos.&lt;br /&gt;É pouco, mas é verdade,&lt;br /&gt;uns olhos como todos os outros. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faz sentido.&lt;br /&gt;Faz sentido não fazer sentido.&lt;br /&gt;E não faz sentido fazer sentido.&lt;br /&gt;Faz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo rouba-nos tudo.&lt;br /&gt;E o tempo vem, de mansinho, e até a coragem nos rouba.&lt;br /&gt;Rouba porque também o mundo a quis tirar.&lt;br /&gt;E tirou porque &lt;strong&gt;acreditar&lt;/strong&gt; já não tem valor.&lt;br /&gt;Não tem.. porque tu não quiseste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho dito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joana Duarte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="quickedit" title="Edit" onclick="'return" href="http://www.blogger.com/rearrange?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;amp;widgetType=Profile&amp;amp;widgetId=Profile1&amp;amp;action=editWidget" target="configProfile1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-4159951485529353132?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/4159951485529353132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=4159951485529353132' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/4159951485529353132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/4159951485529353132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/01/adeus.html' title='Adeus'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-3196590111055388578</id><published>2008-01-20T19:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-20T21:11:03.878Z</updated><title type='text'>O Verdadeiro Gesto do Amor</title><content type='html'>Aquilo que de verdadeiramente significativo podemos dar a alguém é o que nunca demos a outra pessoa, porque nasceu e se inventou por obra do afecto. O gesto mais amoroso deixa de o ser se, mesmo bem sentido, representa a repetição de incontáveis gestos anteriores numa situação semelhante. O amor é a invenção de tudo, uma originalidade inesgotável.&lt;br /&gt;Fundamentalmente, uma inocência.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-3196590111055388578?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/3196590111055388578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=3196590111055388578' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/3196590111055388578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/3196590111055388578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/01/o-verdadeiro-gesto-do-amor.html' title='O Verdadeiro Gesto do Amor'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-2422426187619006797</id><published>2008-01-20T19:17:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-20T19:19:30.495Z</updated><title type='text'>O que somos NÃO É</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;Mas há momentos, nunca o pensaste?, há momentos em que tudo se nos abisma até à fadiga. O desânimo sem fundo. A vertigem para lá de qualquer significação. Nós somos o artifício de nós. Mas é aí que construímos a legitimação de se existir. Somos duplos do que somos e por baixo da camada que nos torna plausíveis há uma outra realidade que revela o plausível em ficção. O que somos não é. O que somos é o que resta depois de tudo se dissipar. O falso de nós é que é verdadeiro. Ou ao contrário, não sei. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;Vergílio Ferreira, in 'Pensar' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-2422426187619006797?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/2422426187619006797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=2422426187619006797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/2422426187619006797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/2422426187619006797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/01/o-que-somos-no.html' title='O que somos NÃO É'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-1853110909170187660</id><published>2008-01-12T22:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-12T22:05:54.850Z</updated><title type='text'>Três Metros Acima do Céu</title><content type='html'>"  (...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fracas ondas da corrente acariciam-lhe o rosto e pequenos esguichos chegam-lhe à boca. Apetece-lhe rir. Mais acima, nuvens prateadas mexem-se lentamente no azul infinito. Levanta a cabeça. Agarra nos seus ombros fortes e beija-a com paixão. Ele olha para ela nos olhos. Passa lhe uma mão pela testa e, tocando levemente no seu cabelo, põe-lho para trás , descobrindo assim a sua cara macia.(...)Aquele mar prateado, as mimosas amarelas, os arbustos verde-escuros, aquela casa solitária nos rochedos. A casa dela, a casa dos seus sonhos. E ela está ali, com ele, e não está a sonhar. Step abraça-a.&lt;br /&gt;- Estás feliz? – Ela faz sinal que sim com a cabeça. Abre os olhos. Húmidos de lágrimas pequenas transparentes, sonhadores e brilhantes de amor, lindíssimos. Ele olha para ela.&lt;br /&gt;- O que foi?&lt;br /&gt;- Tenho medo.&lt;br /&gt;- De quê?- De nunca mais estar assim tão feliz na minha vida...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentados numa rocha, vestidos dos roupões de Amarildo e Sigfrida olham a sonhar para os milhares de estrelas por cima deles, para a lua, a noite, o mar, escuro e calmo.&lt;br /&gt;- É lindíssimo.&lt;br /&gt;- É a tua casa, não é?&lt;br /&gt;- És maluco!&lt;br /&gt;- Eu sei!&lt;br /&gt;- Estou feliz. Nunca estive tão bem em toda a minha vida. E tu?&lt;br /&gt;- Eu? – Step abraça-a com força. – Estou óptimo.&lt;br /&gt;- Quase podes tocar com o dedo no céu.&lt;br /&gt;- Não, assim não.&lt;br /&gt;- Assim não, porquê?&lt;br /&gt;- Estou muito mais acima. Pelo menos três metros acima do céu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem consegue acreditar. Lá em cima, muito mais acima do que as outras, inapagável . Ali esta, no mármore frio, azul como os seus olhos, linda como sempre desejara. O seu coração começa a bater com força. Durante uns segundos, pensa que toda a gente a pode ouvir, pode ler aquela frase, exactamente como o está a fazer ela. Está ali, no alto, inatingível. Ali onde só podem chegar os namorados: «Eu e tu… Três metros acima do céu.»&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muito devagar, a moto dá a volta. Está na hora de ir para casa. Está na hora de recomeçar, devagar, sem saltos do motor. Sem pensar de mais. &lt;strong&gt;Com uma única pergunta. Será que um dia voltarei a chegar lá acima, àquele sítio tão difícil de alcançar?&lt;/strong&gt; Ali, onde tudo parece mais bonito. E no instante em que faz a pergunta, infelizmente, já sabe a resposta. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu alcancei! E de lá não quero sair! @&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-1853110909170187660?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/1853110909170187660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=1853110909170187660' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/1853110909170187660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/1853110909170187660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2008/01/trs-metros-acima-do-cu.html' title='Três Metros Acima do Céu'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-5188710398671660646</id><published>2007-12-18T18:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:49:00.074Z</updated><title type='text'>More Than Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R2gMdfJUNFI/AAAAAAAAABM/ApISAKKJsjU/s1600-h/sem+tÃ&amp;shy;tulo.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145376274987103314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R2gMdfJUNFI/AAAAAAAAABM/ApISAKKJsjU/s320/sem+t%C3%ADtulo.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;More than words . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-5188710398671660646?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/5188710398671660646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=5188710398671660646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5188710398671660646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5188710398671660646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2007/12/more-than-words.html' title='More Than Words'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R2gMdfJUNFI/AAAAAAAAABM/ApISAKKJsjU/s72-c/sem+t%C3%ADtulo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-2918354485495864210</id><published>2007-12-02T10:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-02T10:55:28.325Z</updated><title type='text'>Cúmplices</title><content type='html'>A noite vem às vezes tão perdida&lt;br /&gt;E quase nada parece bater certo&lt;br /&gt;Há qualquer coisa em nós inquieta e ferida&lt;br /&gt;E tudo o que era fundo fica perto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre o chão da alma é seguro&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre o tempo cura qualquer dor&lt;br /&gt;E o sabor a fim do mar que vem do escuro&lt;br /&gt;É tantas vezes o que resta do calor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se eu fosse a tua pele&lt;br /&gt;Se tu fosses o meu caminho&lt;br /&gt;Se nenhum de nós se sentisse nunca sozinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trocamos as palavras mais escondidas&lt;br /&gt;Que só a noite arranca sem doer&lt;br /&gt;Seremos cúmplices o resto da vida&lt;br /&gt;Ou talvez só até amanhecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fica tão fácil entregar a alma&lt;br /&gt;A quem nos traga um sopro do deserto&lt;br /&gt;Olhar onde a distância nunca acalma&lt;br /&gt;Esperando o que vier de peito aberto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se eu fosse a tua pele&lt;br /&gt;Se tu fosses o meu caminho&lt;br /&gt;Se nenhum de nós se sentisse nunca sozinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mafalda Veiga&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-2918354485495864210?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/2918354485495864210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=2918354485495864210' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/2918354485495864210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/2918354485495864210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2007/12/cmplices.html' title='Cúmplices'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-902589989389659115</id><published>2007-11-24T23:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:49:00.347Z</updated><title type='text'>Não, não é cansaço...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R0i3Eg3m2hI/AAAAAAAAABE/cKJTR3R7Sic/s1600-h/let%20sleeping%20dogs%20lie1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136556663186577938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R0i3Eg3m2hI/AAAAAAAAABE/cKJTR3R7Sic/s320/let%2520sleeping%2520dogs%2520lie1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não, não é cansaço...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;É uma quantidade de desilusão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que se me entranha na espécie de pensar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;É um domingo às avessas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do sentimento,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um feriado passado no abismo...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não, cansaço não é...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;É eu estar existindo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E também o mundo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Com tudo aquilo que contém,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Como tudo aquilo que nele se desdobra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E afinal é a mesma coisa variada em cópias iguais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Álvaro de Campos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-902589989389659115?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/902589989389659115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=902589989389659115' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/902589989389659115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/902589989389659115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2007/11/no-no-cansao.html' title='Não, não é cansaço...'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/R0i3Eg3m2hI/AAAAAAAAABE/cKJTR3R7Sic/s72-c/let%2520sleeping%2520dogs%2520lie1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-826401228958879864</id><published>2007-11-18T14:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-18T14:29:30.650Z</updated><title type='text'>Amo-te .</title><content type='html'>Aerosmith - I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could stay awake just to hear you breathing&lt;br /&gt;Watch you smile while you are sleeping&lt;br /&gt;Far away and dreaming&lt;br /&gt;I could spend my life in this sweet surrender&lt;br /&gt;I could stay lost in this moment forever&lt;br /&gt;Well, every moment spent with you&lt;br /&gt;Is a moment I treasure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'd miss you, babe&lt;br /&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;'Cause even when I dream of you&lt;br /&gt;The sweetest dream will never do&lt;br /&gt;I'd still miss you, babe&lt;br /&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lying close to you&lt;br /&gt;Feeling your heart beating&lt;br /&gt;And I'm wondering what you're dreaming&lt;br /&gt;Wondering if it's me you're seeing&lt;br /&gt;Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together&lt;br /&gt;And I just wanna stay with you&lt;br /&gt;In this moment forever, forever and ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'd miss you, babe&lt;br /&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;'Cause even when I dream of you&lt;br /&gt;The sweetest dream will never do&lt;br /&gt;I'd still miss you, babe&lt;br /&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't wanna miss one smile&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't wanna miss one kiss&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well, I just wanna be with you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Right here with you, just like this&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just wanna hold you close&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feel your heart so close to mine&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And stay here in this moment&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For all the rest of time&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't wanna close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Don't wanna fall asleep, yeah&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-826401228958879864?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/826401228958879864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=826401228958879864' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/826401228958879864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/826401228958879864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2007/11/aerosmith-i-dont-wanna-miss-thing.html' title='Amo-te .'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-6894477842557658407</id><published>2007-11-11T13:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:49:00.621Z</updated><title type='text'>Nothing Else Matters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RzcUkol_ieI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Om67FvbLglY/s1600-h/Algarve+108.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131592920016587234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RzcUkol_ieI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Om67FvbLglY/s320/Algarve+108.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So close no matter how far&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Couldnt be much more from the heart&lt;br /&gt;Forever trusting who we are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And nothing else matters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never opened myself this way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is ours, we live it our way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All these words I dont just say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And nothing else matters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trust I seek and I find in you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every day for us something new&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Open mind for a different view&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And nothing else matters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never cared for what they do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never cared for what they know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So close no matter how far&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Couldnt be much more from the heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Forever trusting who we are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And nothing else matters &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never cared for what they say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never cared for games they play&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never cared for what they do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never cared for what they know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So close no matter how far&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Couldnt be much more from the heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Forever trusting who we are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No nothing else matters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-6894477842557658407?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/6894477842557658407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=6894477842557658407' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/6894477842557658407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/6894477842557658407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2007/11/nothing-else-matters.html' title='Nothing Else Matters'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RzcUkol_ieI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Om67FvbLglY/s72-c/Algarve+108.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-653690488098486297</id><published>2007-11-07T19:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:49:00.818Z</updated><title type='text'>Palco</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RzIMje9VLaI/AAAAAAAAAA0/-oHpqfzUai0/s1600-h/Sem+t%C3%ADtulo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130176729273675170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RzIMje9VLaI/AAAAAAAAAA0/-oHpqfzUai0/s320/Sem+t%C3%ADtulo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palco, onde tudo se esconde,&lt;br /&gt;Onde tudo se mostra,&lt;br /&gt;Onde tudo pode acontecer.&lt;br /&gt;Onde podemos ser quem não somos,&lt;br /&gt;Onde podemos ser quem sempre sonhámos,&lt;br /&gt;Onde podemos ser quem queremos ser,&lt;br /&gt;Onde podemos ser qualquer um,&lt;br /&gt;Onde podemos ser todos e não ser ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;Onde o tempo pode voltar a atrás,&lt;br /&gt;Onde o tempo pode avançar,&lt;br /&gt;Onde pode não haver tempo.&lt;br /&gt;Onde se pode tornar o real em imaginário,&lt;br /&gt;E o imaginário em real.&lt;br /&gt;Onde podemos ver o que a imaginação sente e pensa,&lt;br /&gt;Onde podemos ver tudo e não ver nada.&lt;br /&gt;Onde podemos sentir os aplausos como tambores dentro de nós,&lt;br /&gt;Onde somos quem não existe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*3 Pancadas de Moliére* .. E as cortinas se abrem..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-653690488098486297?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/653690488098486297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=653690488098486297' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/653690488098486297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/653690488098486297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2007/11/palco.html' title='Palco'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RzIMje9VLaI/AAAAAAAAAA0/-oHpqfzUai0/s72-c/Sem+t%C3%ADtulo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-6064083491179449044</id><published>2007-10-31T21:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:49:00.988Z</updated><title type='text'>Onde quer que te invente</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/Ryj44e9VLZI/AAAAAAAAAAs/pzZbxWo9-L4/s1600-h/miro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127621825027976594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/Ryj44e9VLZI/AAAAAAAAAAs/pzZbxWo9-L4/s320/miro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Onde quer que te invente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tu pedes-me a noção de ser concreta &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;num sorriso num gesto no que abstrai &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a minha exactidão em estar repleta &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;do que mais fica quando de mim vai. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tu pedes-me uma parcela de certeza &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;um desmentido do meu ser virtual &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;livre no resultado de pureza&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;da soma do meu bem e do meu mal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deixa-me assim ficar. E tu comigo &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sem tempo na viagem de entender &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;o que persigo quando te persigo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deixa-me assim ficar no que consente&lt;br /&gt;a minha alma no gosto de reter-te &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;essencial. Onde quer que te invente. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Natália Correia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-6064083491179449044?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/6064083491179449044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=6064083491179449044' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/6064083491179449044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/6064083491179449044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2007/10/onde-quer-que-te-invente.html' title='Onde quer que te invente'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/Ryj44e9VLZI/AAAAAAAAAAs/pzZbxWo9-L4/s72-c/miro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-7385672620944330571</id><published>2007-10-26T20:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:49:01.265Z</updated><title type='text'>Para ser grande, Sê inteiro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RyJB8-9VLXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/s9ZF5IJMv5k/s1600-h/puzzle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125731841849240946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RyJB8-9VLXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/s9ZF5IJMv5k/s320/puzzle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para ser grande, sê inteiro: nada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teu exagera ou exclui.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sê todo em cada coisa. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Põe quanto és&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No mínimo que fazes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Assim em cada lago a lua toda&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Brilha, porque alta vive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ricardo Reis&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-7385672620944330571?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/7385672620944330571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=7385672620944330571' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7385672620944330571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/7385672620944330571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2007/10/para-ser-grande-s-inteiro.html' title='Para ser grande, Sê inteiro'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RyJB8-9VLXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/s9ZF5IJMv5k/s72-c/puzzle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-5558190569327594596</id><published>2007-10-25T18:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:49:01.404Z</updated><title type='text'>O Que Há em Mim é Sobretudo Cansaço</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RyDSkO9VLWI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0m_-jfqgQlY/s1600-h/grito1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125327895880084834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RyDSkO9VLWI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0m_-jfqgQlY/s320/grito1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O Que Há em Mim é Sobretudo Cansaço&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O que há em mim é sobretudo cansaço&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não disto nem daquilo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nem sequer de tudo ou de nada:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cansaço assim mesmo, ele mesmo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cansaço.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A subtileza das sensações inúteis,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As paixões violentas por coisa nenhuma,&lt;br /&gt;Os amores intensos por o suposto alguém.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Essas coisas todas -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Essas e o que faz falta nelas eternamente -;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tudo isso faz um cansaço,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Este cansaço,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cansaço.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Há sem dúvida quem ame o infinito,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Há sem dúvida quem deseje o impossível,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Há sem dúvida quem não queira nada -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Três tipos de idealistas, e eu nenhum deles:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque eu amo infinitamente o finito,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque eu desejo impossivelmente o possível,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque eu quero tudo, ou um pouco mais, se puder ser,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ou até se não puder ser...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E o resultado?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para eles a vida vivida ou sonhada,&lt;br /&gt;Para eles o sonho sonhado ou vivido,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para eles a média entre tudo e nada, isto é, isto...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para mim só um grande, um profundo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E, ah com que felicidade infecundo, cansaço,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um supremíssimo cansaço.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Íssimo, íssimo, íssimo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cansaço... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Álvaro de Campos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-5558190569327594596?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/5558190569327594596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=5558190569327594596' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5558190569327594596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/5558190569327594596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2007/10/o-que-h-em-mim-sobretudo-cansao.html' title='O Que Há em Mim é Sobretudo Cansaço'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/RyDSkO9VLWI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0m_-jfqgQlY/s72-c/grito1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306879895190749851.post-6670157831559175224</id><published>2007-10-22T20:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:49:01.587Z</updated><title type='text'>Adeus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/Rxz9ox-U7CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h7dV0v5kUKo/s1600-h/abraco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124249353092131874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/Rxz9ox-U7CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h7dV0v5kUKo/s320/abraco.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adeus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Já gastámos as palavras pela rua, meu amor,&lt;br /&gt;e o que nos ficou não chega&lt;br /&gt;para afastar o frio de quatro paredes.&lt;br /&gt;Gastámos tudo menos o silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;Gastámos os olhos com o sal das lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;gastámos as mãos à força de as apertarmos,&lt;br /&gt;gastámos o relógio e as pedras das esquinas&lt;br /&gt;em esperas inúteis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meto as mãos nas algibeiras e não encontro nada.&lt;br /&gt;Antigamente tínhamos tanto para dar um ao outro;&lt;br /&gt;era como se todas as coisas fossem minhas:&lt;br /&gt;quanto mais te dava mais tinha para te dar.&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes tu dizias: os teus olhos são peixes verdes.&lt;br /&gt;E eu acreditava.&lt;br /&gt;Acreditava,&lt;br /&gt;porque ao teu lado&lt;br /&gt;todas as coisas eram possíveis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas isso era no tempo dos segredos,&lt;br /&gt;era no tempo em que o teu corpo era um aquário,&lt;br /&gt;era no tempo em que os meus olhos&lt;br /&gt;eram realmente peixes verdes.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje são apenas os meus olhos.&lt;br /&gt;É pouco mas é verdade,&lt;br /&gt;uns olhos como todos os outros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Já gastámos as palavras.&lt;br /&gt;Quando agora digo: meu amor,&lt;br /&gt;já não se passa absolutamente nada.&lt;br /&gt;E no entanto, antes das palavras gastas,&lt;br /&gt;tenho a certeza&lt;br /&gt;de que todas as coisas estremeciam&lt;br /&gt;só de murmurar o teu nome&lt;br /&gt;no silêncio do meu coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não temos já nada para dar.&lt;br /&gt;Dentro de ti&lt;br /&gt;não há nada que me peça água.&lt;br /&gt;O passado é inútil como um trapo.&lt;br /&gt;E já te disse: as palavras estão gastas.&lt;br /&gt;Adeus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eugénio de Andrade &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306879895190749851-6670157831559175224?l=joaniinha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/feeds/6670157831559175224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8306879895190749851&amp;postID=6670157831559175224' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/6670157831559175224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306879895190749851/posts/default/6670157831559175224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://joaniinha.blogspot.com/2007/10/adeus.html' title='Adeus'/><author><name>Joana Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13661305967798707835</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/SB0teub2bbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/r_MSGAQPbeE/S220/Joana+026.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TlCHGy284Ts/Rxz9ox-U7CI/AAAAAAAAAAM/h7dV0v5kUKo/s72-c/abraco.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
