<?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-6419674941971314618</id><updated>2011-07-08T09:41:32.259-03:00</updated><category term='infância'/><category term='natal'/><category term='little nemo'/><category term='faculdade'/><category term='lembrança'/><category term='pai'/><category term='estudos'/><category term='pena'/><category term='quadrinhos'/><category term='amor'/><category term='dani'/><category term='velharia'/><category term='fantasia'/><category term='liberdade'/><category term='tinta'/><category term='armário'/><title type='text'>Little Lalis in Slumberland.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-2363646210432065310</id><published>2010-07-29T16:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T16:31:46.935-03:00</updated><title type='text'>nó na garganta.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-top: 8px; margin-right: 12px; margin-bottom: 8px; margin-left: 12px; background-image: url(http://www.tumblr.com/images/input_bg.gif); background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.4; font-weight: normal; background-position: 50% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; "&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;não consigo dizer se é porque tem coisa vindo ou se porque tem coisa acabando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;eu sei que gostaria de ter mais férias, isso sim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;mais tempo pra mim e pro que eu gosto de fazer, sem ter que me preocupar tanto com trabalhos e com vida profissional.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;acho que eu não nasci pra faculdade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-2363646210432065310?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/2363646210432065310/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2010/07/no-na-garganta.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/2363646210432065310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/2363646210432065310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2010/07/no-na-garganta.html' title='nó na garganta.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-7810577610325021284</id><published>2010-04-27T21:39:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T21:47:03.650-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dani'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>L'amour...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/S9eFLOq0irI/AAAAAAAAAMM/JPbUgIeCkxY/s1600/DSC00218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/S9eFLOq0irI/AAAAAAAAAMM/JPbUgIeCkxY/s320/DSC00218.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464983100800142002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CLais%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C10%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 36pt; text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A forma do ser humano primitivo era esférica, esses seres possuíam uma grande agilidade para direcionar-se e locomover-se a todos os lados, além de uma &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;força&lt;/span&gt; e um &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;vigor&lt;/span&gt; extraordinários. Os deuses concordaram que uma espécie tão forte deveria ser enfraquecida, ao invés de exterminada e, com isso, reduziram o número de seres que lhes prestavam culto.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 36pt; text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Para isso, bastou &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;dividi-la&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;Assim, semelhante a um ovo cortado ao meio, os homens foram divididos e tiveram suas partes &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;separadas&lt;/span&gt;, de modo a permanecer distantes e saudosos de sua antiga condição. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-indent: 36pt; text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando acontece dos seres divididos &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;encontrarem sua metade&lt;/span&gt;, querem apenas permanecer juntos, na tentativa de novamente voltar ao que eram antes. Talvez se questionados, não saberiam dizer a razão de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;tamanha necessidade da companhia um do outro&lt;/span&gt;. O certo, no entanto, é que ambos buscam a unidade perdida; a homogeneidade que outrora formavam. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36pt; font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"&gt;Segundo Aristófanes, é “a saudade desse todo e o empenho de restabelecê-lo...” que se denomina amor. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" face="trebuchet ms" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“... nossa espécie só poderá ser &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;feliz&lt;/span&gt; quando realizarmos plenamente a finalidade do amor e &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;cada um de nós encontrar o seu &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;verdadeiro amado&lt;/span&gt;, retornando, assim, à sua &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;primitiva natureza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-7810577610325021284?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/7810577610325021284/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2010/04/lamour.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/7810577610325021284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/7810577610325021284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2010/04/lamour.html' title='L&apos;amour...'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/S9eFLOq0irI/AAAAAAAAAMM/JPbUgIeCkxY/s72-c/DSC00218.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-5749569123684015493</id><published>2010-04-26T20:57:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T21:38:44.281-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lembrança'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='armário'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='velharia'/><title type='text'>recuperando...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;eu queria ter escrito mais,&lt;br /&gt;falado mais,&lt;br /&gt;mas não saiu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hoje eu assisti dawson's creek: sim, a série mais 'adolescentes nos anos 90' que já existiu.&lt;br /&gt;e o engraçado é que eu consegui ver por que eu fiquei do jeito que sou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;assistir ao meu seriado favorito da oitava série me deu vontade de vir postar aqui.&lt;br /&gt;mesmo que fosse algo velho, por que nao tem muita coisa nova...&lt;br /&gt;entao eu abri meu antigo caderno de anotações gigantes e estou tentando retirar algo dele...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;algum tempo depois, resolvi então postar aqui um textinho que eu escrevi pra minha auto biografia do terceiro ano...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Acordo e me olho no espelho.&lt;br /&gt;Nada vejo.&lt;br /&gt;Escuro.&lt;br /&gt;Há uma trilha a seguir.&lt;br /&gt;As portas do armário brilham.&lt;br /&gt;Corro até elas e abro as portas, curiosa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frente a frente com todas as minhas faces colecionadas, me pergunto:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Quem serei hoje?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-5749569123684015493?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/5749569123684015493/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2010/04/recuperando.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/5749569123684015493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/5749569123684015493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2010/04/recuperando.html' title='recuperando...'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-8609009314469681602</id><published>2009-09-24T21:35:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T21:51:39.064-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='liberdade'/><title type='text'>Liberdade.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Eu já sentia a um certo tempo que o meu gosto pela &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;revolução &lt;/span&gt;era maior que muitas outras coisas que eu sentia.&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Ter que seguir uma linha reta e não poder seguir as linhas tortas da minha natureza é algo que me deixa louca hoje em dia. Coisa que a meses atrás não acontecia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Talvez meu coração tenha se revoltado por não ser escutado.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Engraçado, porque eu sempre gostei (e ainda gosto) de ter planos para tudo. Sem os meus planinhos, anotações e lembretes muitas coisas nao funcionariam e mesmo assim, eu acabo desobedecendo meus próprios planos e saindo da linha deles. Parece que eu crio os planos exclusivamente para poder desobedecê-los.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A cada dia que se passa com essa mesma rotina, todos os dias se repetindo, essa mesmica sem igual, me sinto mais enjaulada, presa a algo do qual não consigo me livrar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Uma enorme gaiola que a cada dia rotineiro fica menor, me espreme e me asfixia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A palavra "liberdade" ecoa na minha cabeça. Acho que é a primeira vez que ela realmente faz sentido. E ela chama, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;ah, chama alto&lt;/span&gt;. Grita todo dia no meu coração. E eu, calmamente, faço de tudo para ignorá-la. Afinal, quem pode ser livre hoje em dia?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Mas agora, meu coração quase não cabe mais em sua jaula. Ele quer sair, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;quero ser livre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-8609009314469681602?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/8609009314469681602/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/09/liberdade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/8609009314469681602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/8609009314469681602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/09/liberdade.html' title='Liberdade.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-6342500318276899625</id><published>2009-09-03T21:08:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T21:13:31.753-03:00</updated><title type='text'>escolhas.</title><content type='html'>às vezes dói no coração fazer a coisa certa, mas tem escolhas que por mais doídas que sejam, não tem como evitar.&lt;div&gt;trancar a faculdade foi uma delas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;doeu, doeu, e ainda dói de pensar que aqueles amigos tão verdadeiros que eu tinha ficaram lá. ficaram pra trás, ficaram fazendo aquilo que eu nao aguentava mais fazer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas tive que sair, tive que me libertar, por que nao me agrdava mais. não era o que eu queria.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e agora olho pra frente e só existem incertezas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que me resta fazer? que me resta pensar? o que esse futuro tão incerto reserva para mim?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;fiz aula de desenho hoje.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foi ótimo, mas não foi tão libertador como eu esperava que fosse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tenho medo das próximas escolhas, tenho medo de errar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas assim é a vida, certo?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;é errando que se aprende. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;e é errando que vou descobrir.&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/6419674941971314618-6342500318276899625?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/6342500318276899625/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/09/as-vezes-doi-no-coracao-fazer-coisa.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/6342500318276899625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/6342500318276899625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/09/as-vezes-doi-no-coracao-fazer-coisa.html' title='escolhas.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-5790875409322028046</id><published>2009-08-08T03:50:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T03:56:02.383-03:00</updated><title type='text'>these 35 words I swear to you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="quote"&gt;1. Get kissed in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;2. Have that one cute kiss where you're pressed against the wall.&lt;br /&gt;3. Have a guy that thinks you're the world.&lt;br /&gt;4. Have a guy that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;holds on as long as possible when giving hugs&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;5. A boy that whispers he loves you in your ear.&lt;br /&gt;6. Have that moment where you just gaze into each other's eyes.&lt;br /&gt;7. When you cry, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;he kisses your tears away&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;8. When you're not with your guy he's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;all that you can think about&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wearing his jacket&lt;/span&gt; and every time you breath in, his scent surrounds you.&lt;br /&gt;10. A guy who will watch any movie with you, no matter how teary eyed you may get.&lt;br /&gt;11. A guy who&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; squeezes your hand&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;12. A guy that says he loves you and means it.&lt;br /&gt;13. A guy that will &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;play her favorite song&lt;/span&gt; outside her window.&lt;br /&gt;14. A guy who is loyal.&lt;br /&gt;15. A guy that will sing to you no matter how bad he is at  it.&lt;br /&gt;16. A guy that will &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;kiss you on the forehead&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;17. A guy that will &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;call you beautiful&lt;/span&gt; or adorable...not hot, fine, or sexy.&lt;br /&gt;18. A guy that will &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;never judge&lt;/span&gt; you for how you look.&lt;br /&gt;19. A boy that says cheezy stuff to you just to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;make you smile&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;20. A boy that is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the same&lt;/span&gt; when he is with you and when he is with his friends.&lt;br /&gt;21. A boy that tells you everything&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; honestly&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;22. A boy that is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;good with your family&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;introduces you to his family&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;23. Guys that will sometimes let you win.&lt;br /&gt;24. A guy who stands up for you &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;no matter who it is against&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;25. A guy who calls you at night &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;just to say 'hi'&lt;/span&gt; and see how your day has been.&lt;br /&gt;26. A guy who tells you that&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; your smile makes his day &lt;/span&gt;and makes everything better.&lt;br /&gt;27. A guy who will sit on the phone with you when you're sad, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;even if you're quiet&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;28. A guy who you can &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hangout and have fun&lt;/span&gt; with.&lt;br /&gt;29. A man that will just randomly call you for no reason at all, just &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;because he missed you&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;30. A guy who will hold your hand through the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;roughest parts  of life&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;31. A guy who would love you forever no matter the  circumstance.&lt;br /&gt;32. A guy who wouldn't mind you wanting to get all dressed up and do your make up for him. Even if he says&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; he likes you better without make up&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;33. A guy who you can be yourself with and he will never give a care and would still tell you that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you are amazing&lt;/span&gt; to him.&lt;br /&gt;34. A guy who runs his fingers through your hair, like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;he's washing your worries/troubles away&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;35. A guy who will call you&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; just to say good night&lt;/span&gt; and say he loves you. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-5790875409322028046?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/5790875409322028046/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/08/35-words-i-swear-to-you.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/5790875409322028046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/5790875409322028046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/08/35-words-i-swear-to-you.html' title='these 35 words I swear to you.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-7367990571355883145</id><published>2009-06-22T21:38:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T23:42:57.829-03:00</updated><title type='text'>sons.</title><content type='html'>e quando voce nao sabe por onde começar?&lt;br /&gt;quando o chão foge e você não sabe onde pisar.&lt;br /&gt;quando o silêncio invade sua cabeça.&lt;br /&gt;quando o escuro invade seu quarto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as vezes eu me sinto perdida no meio de tanto barulho, que parece que o silencio da minha cabeça nao é suficiente pra abafar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-7367990571355883145?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/7367990571355883145/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/06/sons.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/7367990571355883145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/7367990571355883145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/06/sons.html' title='sons.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-2656495065073498093</id><published>2009-06-16T21:34:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T21:39:35.781-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/Sjg6XEcSD3I/AAAAAAAAAJk/CjvH9XtMvBw/s1600-h/true+love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/Sjg6XEcSD3I/AAAAAAAAAJk/CjvH9XtMvBw/s320/true+love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348088725506232178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo mundo pode dizer o que quiser, mas o amor é importante, porra.&lt;br /&gt;E o desprezo que as pessoas dão pra ele hoje em dia é tão grande que me deixa com raiva.&lt;br /&gt;Eu me considero das poucas pessoas nesse mundo que sabe amar, do fundo da alma.&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria que as pessoas aprendessem a se importar com o que realmente importa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heart- What About Love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I've been lonely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I've been waiting for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretending&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; And that's all I can do&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The love I'm sending&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ain't making it&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through to your heart&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been hiding&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never letting it show&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always trying&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To keep it under control&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You got it down and you're well&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to the top&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's something that you forgot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;What about love?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you want someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;To care about you?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about love?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't let it slip away&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; I only want to share it with you&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might need it someday&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't tell you&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you're feeling inside&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't sell you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;What you don't want to buy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something's missing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you got to look back on your life&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know something&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here just ain't right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-2656495065073498093?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/2656495065073498093/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/06/love.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/2656495065073498093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/2656495065073498093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/06/love.html' title='Love.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/Sjg6XEcSD3I/AAAAAAAAAJk/CjvH9XtMvBw/s72-c/true+love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-8293961001765501923</id><published>2009-06-02T23:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T23:43:34.719-03:00</updated><title type='text'>de lua.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3083/2563759452_068e3b63cd.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 376px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3083/2563759452_068e3b63cd.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorria. um sorriso largo, demonstrava a felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;sorria pras velinhas que alimentavam pombas na rua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de repente, chorava. mas era um choro de soluçar.&lt;br /&gt;não conseguia conter as lágrimas que rolavam por sua face rosada.&lt;br /&gt;o nariz escorria, as mangas do casaco já ficavam molhadas de enxugar as lágrimas que não cessavam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e num piscar de olhos, nascia de novo aquele sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;a gargalhada. uma felicidade sem igual. como se as nuvens fossem embora e o dia se abrisse de novo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas essa felicidade nunca dura. sempre vem alguma nuvem grande, cinza e gorda pra chover em cima dela.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-8293961001765501923?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/8293961001765501923/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/06/de-lua.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/8293961001765501923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/8293961001765501923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/06/de-lua.html' title='de lua.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-4299844510341655840</id><published>2009-05-31T22:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T22:22:41.802-03:00</updated><title type='text'>final de semana.</title><content type='html'>e agora, eu sinto de novo que estou viva.&lt;br /&gt;aquela chama de vela quase apagada, se acende de novo e diz bem alto pra todo mundo ouvir: ela voltou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;um sorriso no rosto que me deixa diferente.&lt;br /&gt;diferente do que eu acostumei a ser nos ultimos meses.&lt;br /&gt;as palavras ficam presas em minha garganta.&lt;br /&gt;é dificil de expressar, mas o olhar que diz tudo se instala em minha face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as duvidas nao se foram, nem as inseguranças, mas agora, viva novamente, começo a achar que o momento de encará-las está cada vez mais perto.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-4299844510341655840?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/4299844510341655840/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/05/final-de-semana.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/4299844510341655840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/4299844510341655840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/05/final-de-semana.html' title='final de semana.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-2108220200650794887</id><published>2009-05-24T22:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T22:54:21.710-03:00</updated><title type='text'>crisecrisecrise</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;chegou aquela hora.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;um momento em que eu sou obrigada a segurar minhas próprias rédeas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;aquela hora que eu olho no espelho e penso em quem eu quero ser e nao consigo decidir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;só sei que não quero mais ser eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;chegou o dia fatídico em que eu quero jogar tudo no lixo e começar de novo do zero.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;o dia que eu penso em voltar no tempo, mas nao tenho certeza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;canso de ser quem sou. o dia chegou: é hoje que eu penso em dormir agora e acordar só depois do natal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;quero tudo resolvido, canso de pensar, minha cabeça dói e eu quero meu remédio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;mas sei que não posso ter ele em mãos. se eu tivesse, eu tomaria mais de 10.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;preciso tirar isso tudo da cabeça e focar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;focar em coisas importantes: taí algo que eu nao sei fazer. focar em  besteira? fácil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;escolher? impossível.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;preciso tirar isso da cabeça antes de começar a quebrar as coisas a minha volta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;preciso pensar em outra coisa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;mas o grito de desespero nao sai da minha cabeça. ela gira, dói, me diz tudo que eu nao quero ouvir, mas tenho que encarar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;quero fugir, mas nao consigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;fugir de mim mesma nunca foi fácil e nunca será.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-2108220200650794887?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/2108220200650794887/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/05/crisecrisecrise.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/2108220200650794887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/2108220200650794887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/05/crisecrisecrise.html' title='crisecrisecrise'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-2181202466717630249</id><published>2009-05-20T00:18:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T00:36:25.881-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faculdade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='estudos'/><title type='text'>chocolate quente.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;e foi numa daquelas noites em que eu saía de casa e ia pra casa da alice que eu percebi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;depois de ir numa exposição gostosa, com gente conhecida, artistas simpaticos e aquele pessoal de sempre...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;todo mundo me olhava e dizia: "quando é que vai ser sua exposição, hein lais?" "quando que você vai tomar vergonha na cara e admitir que você é artista?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;e eu juro, juuro de verdade que não é só porque as pessoas falam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;é o que eu sinto que conta. e eu nao to gostando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;é tão raro eu levantar de manhã e pensar "Oba, eu faço moda! vou pra faculdade"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;eu quero achar o que eu gosto. quero sentir de novo aquilo que eu sentia quando eu enfiava a mão na tinta e fazia aquilo que me deixava com sorriso no rosto por dias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;quero ver acontecer de novo: deixar que todos os meus sentimentos fiquem grudados na tela, coloridos, em preto e branco, em aquarela, acrilico, óleo, qualquer coisa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;eu quero expressar. eu cansei desse mundo de costura, passarela, desfile e consumismo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;eu quero vanguardas, renascentismo e barroco! eu quero voltar praquilo que eu sempre vivi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;não quero mais tentar e tentar e tentar e ficar me forçando a gostar de algo que nao tem a ver comigo! eu quero ser feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;e foi aí que eu percebi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;é oficial, por mais triste que possa ser largar o pessoal do senac que eu gosto tanto: eu vou mudar de curso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-2181202466717630249?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/2181202466717630249/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/05/chocolate-quente.html#comment-form' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/2181202466717630249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/2181202466717630249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/05/chocolate-quente.html' title='chocolate quente.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-8004798768937748174</id><published>2009-05-12T23:32:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T23:33:49.370-03:00</updated><title type='text'>poema por um amigo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SgoxURFepyI/AAAAAAAAAJU/7hJVcX7_s4c/s1600-h/laliss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SgoxURFepyI/AAAAAAAAAJU/7hJVcX7_s4c/s320/laliss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335130932827301666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;-Natural curly hair-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Aproximo-me de seu ombro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Toco-a suavemente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Sinto sua pele macia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Vejo-te diferente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Beleza desconhecida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Aproximo-me de seu peito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Com cuidado e devagar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Hesito por um instante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;E te vejo acordar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Manhã banhada pelo sol...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Aproximo-me de seu pescoço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Meu coração já disparando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Beijo-te e sinto teu cheiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Ouço-te me chamando &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;O tempo tende a parar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Aproximo-me de seus lábios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Sinto sua respiração &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Nossos lábios se tocam levemente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;E só vejo escuridão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Mas o mundo não para de girar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Aproximo-me de seus olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Encaro-os sem temer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Fazemos juras de amor &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Erros a cometer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;A noite cala os pensamentos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Aproximo-me de seus cabelos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Acaricio-os uma ultima vez &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Despeço-me de ti meu amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Já não sei quando a verei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Duvidas me fazem tremer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Aproximo-me da porta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Os passos estão pesados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Você sorri para mim de novo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Já não me sinto tão cansado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Mas ao fechar a porta, nunca mais tornei a te ver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-8004798768937748174?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/8004798768937748174/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/05/poema-por-um-amigo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/8004798768937748174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/8004798768937748174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/05/poema-por-um-amigo.html' title='poema por um amigo.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SgoxURFepyI/AAAAAAAAAJU/7hJVcX7_s4c/s72-c/laliss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-7664785340284092053</id><published>2009-05-06T11:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T11:42:27.723-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.kunstdk.dk/assets/5197/large/rainbow_detail_480p.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 480px;" src="http://www.kunstdk.dk/assets/5197/large/rainbow_detail_480p.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;e no fim do arco íris, está a última esperança. Encontrar o pote de ouro seria a reta final. Com ele em mãos, a busca estaria terminada. Já sem ele, as esperanças teriam acabado. Mas ela nunca imaginou, que o que haveria no final do arco íris seria tão diferente de um pote de ouro e tão próximo do que ela precisava.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-7664785340284092053?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/7664785340284092053/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-no-fim-do-arco-iris-esta-ultima.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/7664785340284092053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/7664785340284092053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/05/e-no-fim-do-arco-iris-esta-ultima.html' title=''/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-5666417719199509250</id><published>2009-04-13T17:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T17:05:47.735-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quadrinhos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little nemo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natal'/><title type='text'>christmas in slumberland.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SeOasym7I5I/AAAAAAAAAIc/z1NBAOUqszc/s1600-h/lais0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SeOasym7I5I/AAAAAAAAAIc/z1NBAOUqszc/s320/lais0004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324269278772011922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Na longínqua terra do querido Little Nemo tambem existe natal.&lt;br /&gt;Só que lá tudo é mais animado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-5666417719199509250?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/5666417719199509250/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/04/christmas-in-slumberland.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/5666417719199509250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/5666417719199509250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/04/christmas-in-slumberland.html' title='christmas in slumberland.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SeOasym7I5I/AAAAAAAAAIc/z1NBAOUqszc/s72-c/lais0004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-4633752521924983782</id><published>2009-04-08T18:34:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T18:51:03.016-03:00</updated><title type='text'>In My Life - The Beatles</title><content type='html'>Eu queria guardar esse texto pra um momento especial. Mas achei que agora, por motivo algum, era um motivo especial o suficiente pra ser postado. Vai me entender...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/Sd0cMR39OLI/AAAAAAAAAIM/uCJ-qKePOpw/s1600-h/lais+ti.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/Sd0cMR39OLI/AAAAAAAAAIM/uCJ-qKePOpw/s200/lais+ti.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322441331903903922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que tudo tem seus altos e baixos. Inclusive nós. Estávamos distantes, mesmo se vendo todos os dias. Mas de repente tivemos um momento. Só um e tudo mudou. Era de noite e todo mundo já tinha ido dormir. Estávamos só eu e ele. Subimos aquelas escadinhas estreitas para ir ver o céu.&lt;br /&gt;Deitamos no chão gelado. A lua estava enorme e brilhava demais. Mesmo assim, era possível ver as estrelas brilhando em volta dela.&lt;br /&gt;Ficamos lá conversando. Relembrando. A memória dos nossos antigos momentos de crises e amizades nos trouxe risadas.&lt;br /&gt;Era como se aquilo nunca fosse sair de lá.&lt;br /&gt;E não saiu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-4633752521924983782?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/4633752521924983782/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-my-life-beatles.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/4633752521924983782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/4633752521924983782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-my-life-beatles.html' title='In My Life - The Beatles'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/Sd0cMR39OLI/AAAAAAAAAIM/uCJ-qKePOpw/s72-c/lais+ti.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-4840654336695220342</id><published>2009-04-01T20:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T18:28:31.364-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='infância'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fantasia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lembrança'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='armário'/><title type='text'>retirado da auto biografia #2</title><content type='html'>Era eu. Com muitas, muitas flores. Servia como uma luva. Me tornava rainha da primavera por um dia. E olha que eu fazia sucesso pra uma criança de 4 anos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Novamente, era eu. Agora procurava algo no armário. Colocava a mão, o braço, a cabeça, mas não achava. Toquei em florzinhas. Eu podia nem lembrar direito, mas aquele toque era familiar. Agarrei e puxei pra perto. Não queria só tocar, queria ver.&lt;br /&gt;Era &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;verde&lt;/span&gt;. Ou pelo menos deveria ser. Estava tão &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"&gt;desbotado&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Sentei-me com o vestidinho mínimo em mãos. Coloquei-o em frente ao meu corpo, era minúsculo, não dava nem de babylook.&lt;br /&gt;Não consegui conter as lágrimas que vieram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/Sd0Wu4ulqZI/AAAAAAAAAIE/YmvDUbQr13k/s1600-h/lais+primavera0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/Sd0Wu4ulqZI/AAAAAAAAAIE/YmvDUbQr13k/s320/lais+primavera0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322435329379379602" 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/6419674941971314618-4840654336695220342?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/4840654336695220342/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/04/retirado-da-auto-biografia-2.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/4840654336695220342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/4840654336695220342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/04/retirado-da-auto-biografia-2.html' title='retirado da auto biografia #2'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/Sd0Wu4ulqZI/AAAAAAAAAIE/YmvDUbQr13k/s72-c/lais+primavera0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-8906000458660068761</id><published>2009-03-30T21:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T21:17:46.123-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pai'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tinta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pena'/><title type='text'>e na falta de criatividade, recorremos à auto biografia.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdFhA3U9Q-I/AAAAAAAAAHc/vO6siIN96BQ/s1600-h/daddy+2+anos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 247px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdFhA3U9Q-I/AAAAAAAAAHc/vO6siIN96BQ/s320/daddy+2+anos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319139302381011938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Abriu a porta do armário. Abri um sorriso. Era frágil, mas ainda assim, sorriso. Retirou o artefato com todo o cuidado do mundo. Mostrou-me com um olhar de dúvida. Segurei com toda a delicadeza que consegui encontrar. Aquele objeto frágil precisava ser manuseado com sabedoria.&lt;br /&gt;Meus olhos brilharam. A dúvida em seu olhar sumiu de vez. Buscou em sua lata &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;(Ah, querida lata)&lt;/span&gt; por um pote de tinta.&lt;br /&gt;Pousou o potinho delicadamente sobre a mesa e se sentou ao meu lado, curioso pra saber no que daria essa nova experiência.&lt;br /&gt;Segurei a pena do modo que achei mais conveniente para não borrar: Como uma caneta normal, mas mais inclinada. Enfiei metade da pena no pote, espirrando tinta pra fora. Ele deu uma risadinha, mas continuou me olhando de lado como se soubesse que aquilo iria acontecer. Eu me sentia um pouco pressionada, mas num bom sentido. Só para provar que era capaz, escrevi sem borrar:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Você olha demais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-8906000458660068761?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/8906000458660068761/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/03/e-na-falta-de-criatividade-recorremos.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/8906000458660068761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/8906000458660068761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/03/e-na-falta-de-criatividade-recorremos.html' title='e na falta de criatividade, recorremos à auto biografia.'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdFhA3U9Q-I/AAAAAAAAAHc/vO6siIN96BQ/s72-c/daddy+2+anos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-6164822898201354779</id><published>2009-03-26T22:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T23:09:52.830-03:00</updated><title type='text'>ah, o segundo ano do colegial...</title><content type='html'>e porque não? porque não deixar tudo de lado e fugir pra um lugar mais facil de se viver?&lt;br /&gt;e por que é que as coisas não podem ser fáceis? sei lá...era tão bom quando a minha maior preocupação de todas era 'quem é minha melhor amiga'...e hoje eu nem tenho uma melhor amiga.&lt;br /&gt;Aliás, a cada ano que passa, eu tenho menos amigos. certo, certo...alguns amigos tem durado...mas a maioria se tornou distante e desconfortável de estar junto. Sinto falta daquela confiança que eu tinha nos amigos, pra contar tudo que eu precisava, pra desabafar tudo que eu sentia. Não tenho mais esses amigos pra desabafar e também perdi o hábito de desabafar, então cada vez mais, eu guardo tudo pra mim. E como isso dói. Mas que posso fazer se as pessoas mudam? Os amigos mudam; eu mudei. EU mudei. e mudei bastante. Mas será que isso é motivo pra separar amizades? Uma amizade não deveria 'aguentar' as mudanças e continuar tão forte como antes? Ao invés de...simplesmente acabar distanciando cada vez mais as pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;Quem eu achava que ia ser meu amigo pra sempre parece estar cada vez se distanciando mais a cada dia de mim. Não consigo mais ver aquele futuro que eu via há dois anos, que era com os meus amigos mais queridos do meu lado. Agora eu vejo sim meus amigos, mas só uma vez a cada 6 meses no máximo. Nada de um amigo pra ver sempre, toda semana, alguém companheiro, que vá REALMENTE ficar comigo pro resto da vida. E não é porque eu não quero mais ser amiga deles. É porque eu mudei e eles mudaram e por causa disso a amizade mudou. Não sinto mais o 'silêncio confortável' que antes eu sentia. E isso só me leva a pensar na GRANDIOSA frase da Mia, em Pulp Fiction: "that's when you know you've found somebody special. when you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence". Eu, atualmente, só consigo aproveitar o silêncio confortavelmente com duas, no máximo três pessoas hoje. O que antes eu fazia facilmente com várias. Qualquer pessoa nova que aparecesse na minha vida, já era amigo, e hoje parece que eu estou tão seletiva que estou perdendo os antigos amigos por que eles nao se encaixam mais.&lt;br /&gt;Tem dias que tudo que eu queria era poder fugir pra algum lugar bem longe pra ficar longe de todo mundo e observar pra ver quem REALMENTE sente minha falta, pq eu sei que poucos realmente sentiriam. E esses poucos, seriam os reais amigos. Os que, percebendo que eu estou longe, iriam atrás de saber alguma coisa sobre mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reais amigos fazem falta nas noites frias de junho. Ainda mais quando se tem 3 filmes clássicos, uma pilha de histórias em quadrinhos da melhor qualidade, dois cobertores de lã e uma xícara de chocolate quente (que parece ser o único amigo que eu tenho hoje).&lt;br /&gt;E eu sei que você não teve saco de ler até o fim dessa joça gigante, então se você deixar um comentário do tipo 'já vi essa foto por aqui' ou 'que foto linda' ou ainda 'bom feriado' eu vou ignorar solenemente, pode deixar...&lt;br /&gt;Bom feriado pra todo mundo, espero que vocês curtam muito todos os dias...&lt;br /&gt;Assim como eu vou curtir os meus...&lt;br /&gt;Afinal, só porque eu tenho duvidas, nao quer dizer que eu nao possa me divertir.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-6164822898201354779?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/6164822898201354779/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/03/ah-o-segundo-ano-do-colegial.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/6164822898201354779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/6164822898201354779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/03/ah-o-segundo-ano-do-colegial.html' title='ah, o segundo ano do colegial...'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6419674941971314618.post-7888224103558327794</id><published>2009-03-24T22:43:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T22:45:57.491-03:00</updated><title type='text'>22/10/2007</title><content type='html'>Você entra no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ônibus&lt;/span&gt;. Procura seu &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cartãozinho&lt;/span&gt; maldito. Luz Vermelha. 1,30: não é suficiente. Deixa um cara de óculos passar na sua frente. Procura a carteira. Tem umas &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;moedinhas&lt;/span&gt;! Junta tudo com desespero. 2,00 R$: faltam ainda 30 centavos. Fica vermelha e não sabe o que fazer. O cara de óculos olha com dó. O cobrador começa um 'tudo bem DESSA VEZ...' O cara fofo abre a bolsa e diz 'eu pago'. Você fica púrpura. Passa pela &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;catraca&lt;/span&gt; e senta do lado dele. Percebe, sem querer, que ele é &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mais ou menos&lt;/span&gt; um sonho. Cabelo preto &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bagunçado&lt;/span&gt;, óculos de aro grosso, camiseta meio curta, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;jeans&lt;/span&gt; rasgado e meio &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;velinho&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;star&lt;/span&gt; de couro branco, mochila preta bem baleada. Você fica sem graça de estar reparando tanto. Abre seu desenho e fica olhando pra ele, pra tentar disfarçar. Ele está lendo. Você fica curiosa pra saber que livro é. Ele pergunta qualquer coisa pro cobrador, que você não consegue ouvir, porque o Fred &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Mercury&lt;/span&gt; grita mais alto nos seus &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;fones&lt;/span&gt; de ouvido. Ele encosta novamente e abre a mochila para guardar o livro. Vira levemente a capa pro seu lado.O título é "Curso de Filosofia". O.O Você tem vontade de morder. Pensa em quão &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;apertável&lt;/span&gt; ele é, agora que você sabe que ele curte uma das suas matérias favoritas. Aí você pensa no outro. É, aquele que curte física, outra das suas favoritas. Você volta pro planeta Terra e percebe. Seu ponto tá chegando. Levanta e vai em &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;direção&lt;/span&gt; à porta. Dá uma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;olhadinha&lt;/span&gt;, pra ver se ele sente sua falta. 1ª parada. Uma moça de botas desce. Ele olha pra trás, pra ver se você desceu. Te procura que nem um louco. 2ª parada. Mesma coisa. 3ª parada. Você desce. Ele já está te procurando que nem doido quando seus pés encostam no chão. Seus olhares encontram. Você sorri. Ele também.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você nunca mais vai vê-lo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6419674941971314618-7888224103558327794?l=lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/feeds/7888224103558327794/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/03/22102007.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/7888224103558327794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6419674941971314618/posts/default/7888224103558327794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lalis-in-slumberland.blogspot.com/2009/03/22102007.html' title='22/10/2007'/><author><name>Lalis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02947258703782757490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J88GXJK7MWo/SdF2SKmianI/AAAAAAAAAHk/mX1bbyFYJO4/s1600-R/ATgAAAC4XkTkIkl-ayk9d2krc71e-LJkFgJbWtm2_u6spoDWtzYfJKdET1zZMv8TS0TipfaNimX64YKdlTXjRynNiHkJAJtU9VAj9V2Uawx67f7a5N7lf_rcRuUl9g.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
