tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49517034322462107702024-02-21T22:07:41.390-03:00 (in)delicadeza de amar.Tentava sentir baixinho, mas o amor fala alto, mesmo quando silencia.
- Ana Jácomo
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.comBlogger1164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-33256421027049978462015-03-06T10:45:00.001-03:002015-03-06T10:45:49.598-03:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-88333382564740202992015-02-19T14:56:00.000-02:002015-02-19T14:56:01.849-02:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As pessoas não se apaixonam muito hoje em dia. Elas preferem estudar, ganhar dinheiro e viver outras experiências. Faça uma enquete rápida e concluirá que quase ninguém crê no amor. <b>Quando mais você sabe da vida, menos você se apaixona. A paixão nasce da ignorância</b>: quanto menos sei sobre você, e mais eu quero saber, mais vulnerável eu fico. Só que atualmente ninguém mais quer saber de ninguém, além de si mesmo. Todos uns cínicos. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Gabito Nunes</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-2180372887994974042015-02-19T14:35:00.002-02:002015-02-19T14:35:16.858-02:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-80405947726088154482015-02-19T14:24:00.002-02:002015-02-19T14:24:58.708-02:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<big style="background-color: white; line-height: 11px; text-align: justify;"><big><img height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq1p91ylBltrYiRodbYgkBn58VelgUsQNiK3XdtoHWr4fOKjJJ0wXWHauKVX4Q7n4i13KZWkWi285frlmaFKozLiS-Hg350ZcS_FTrG3WuvnBvW8dKwREpT0n-CRlgIC7RDvibT38TL6s/s400/h.jpg" width="400" /></big></big></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 11px; text-align: justify;">O tempo passa. O fôlego retorna. Parece milagre, mas as sementes de cura começam a florescer nos mesmos jardins onde parecia que nenhuma outra flor brotaria. A alma é sábia: enquanto achamos que só existe dor, ela trabalha, em silêncio, para tecer o momento novo. E ele chega.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i style="background-color: white; line-height: 11px; text-align: justify;"></i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 11px; text-align: justify;"></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 11px; text-align: justify;">Ana Jácomo</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-17231555956901325922014-09-27T01:56:00.001-03:002014-09-27T01:56:02.714-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-35058839235956768002014-09-13T23:25:00.002-03:002014-09-13T23:25:18.533-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyJHHtmfiaIfViWOSdEtuMLD7iQJsaX2qdLo9gYps5rZEPfVXT5vPnfobjqZQmPYdxCPOIJdmtct1fbe9V8M_DEiYSzbyaY_wHjocsBHQQIsKGEkSSjb1UX66tdHd_8_UBKFP-IWPCtywY/s1600/images+(73).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyJHHtmfiaIfViWOSdEtuMLD7iQJsaX2qdLo9gYps5rZEPfVXT5vPnfobjqZQmPYdxCPOIJdmtct1fbe9V8M_DEiYSzbyaY_wHjocsBHQQIsKGEkSSjb1UX66tdHd_8_UBKFP-IWPCtywY/s1600/images+(73).jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Porque eu sou isso que você vê: sou mais sentimento que razão, sou mais grito que sussurro, sou mais pé na nuvem do que no chão. E não me arrependo de nenhum defeito meu, não me condeno e nem me culpo. Me aceito toda cheia de cicatrizes, roxos e falhas.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Clarissa Corrêa</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-20803026552742221162014-09-02T01:23:00.001-03:002014-09-02T01:23:31.057-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9B0F_U9eFoFii4S61Kp6fXhcKt_BoTy7hoS7ppIKNXLdKl_xFf7hahe9szaISSZBK0n-CRsZZ6KfOiSSr5Ex35ptrKTT7anSnyfwO32TTE2vMz-7dez_Laqyu7IyUcNl2ahu-ty-LO31J/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9B0F_U9eFoFii4S61Kp6fXhcKt_BoTy7hoS7ppIKNXLdKl_xFf7hahe9szaISSZBK0n-CRsZZ6KfOiSSr5Ex35ptrKTT7anSnyfwO32TTE2vMz-7dez_Laqyu7IyUcNl2ahu-ty-LO31J/s1600/images.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(...) Mas acabou. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sei que valeu a pena quando me pego sorrindo lembrando as loucuras que fizemos.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Gabito Nunes</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-74608135192728421102014-09-02T01:07:00.002-03:002014-09-02T01:07:18.831-03:00<div style="text-align: right;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A verdade, o que</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">mora dentro de mim,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Gabito Nunes</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-25103181152510439012014-09-02T01:03:00.000-03:002014-09-02T01:03:07.444-03:00<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Dizem que tudo na vida tem dois lados. Um bom e outro ruim. Depende nos olhos de quem está a pimenta. Mas se tem algo realmente ambíguo para uma única alma é um troço chamado saudade. Com ou sem pimenta nos olhos. O dito popular é quem melhor traduz a dualidade de uma saudade quando diz que esta é a maior prova de que o amor valeu a pena. Então sentir a falta é bom. E ruim. Em todos os pontos de vista. Vai entender.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Saudade é amar um passado que nos machuca no presente. É uma felicidade retardada. É deitar na rede e ficar lembrando das ardentes reconciliações depois de brigas homéricas por motivos desimportantes. Sente-se falta de detalhes, como uma toalha no chão, dias chuvosos, da cor dos olhos. A saudade só não mata porque tem o prazer da tortura.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Saudade é o amor que não foi embora ainda, embora o amado já o tenha feito. Ter saudade é imaginar onde deve estar agora, se ainda gosta de vinho bordeaux, se chorou com a derrota do Grêmio no campeonato nacional, se tem tratado aquela amiga da elite. E quando a saudade não cabe mais no peito, se materializa e transborda pelos olhos.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sentir saudade é ter a ausência sempre do seu lado. É mudar radicalmente a rotina, comer mais salada e menos sorvete, frequentar lugares esquisitos, ter dias mais compridos, ter tempo para os amigos, para o vizinho e para a iguana do vizinho. A saudade é a inconfortável expectativa de um reencontro.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Às vezes a saudade é tão grande que nem é mais um sentimento. A gente é saudade. É viver para encontrar o olhar da pessoa em cada improvável esquina, confundir cabelos, bocas e perfumes, sorrir com os lábios tendo o coração sufocado. Porque mesmo a saudade sendo feita para doer, às vezes percebemos que ela é o meio mais eficaz de enxergar o quanto amamos alguém, no passado ou no presente.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Por que a saudade é o muro de Berlim desmoronado no chão, capaz de agregar opostos, como a tristeza e a felicidade em uma coisa híbrida. Se você tem saudade é sinal que teve na vida momentos de alegria com ela ou ele! No fim das contas, a saudade que agora lhe maltrata nada mais é que uma dívida sendo paga em longas 36 prestações pelo amor usufruído. Agora aguenta.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Gabito Nunes</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-11659990418914584872014-09-02T01:01:00.000-03:002014-09-02T01:01:08.370-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Livrar-se de uma lembrança é um processo lento, impossível de programar. Ninguém consegue tirar alguém da cabeça na hora que quer, e às vezes a única solução é inverter o jogo: em vez de tentar não pensar na pessoa, esgotar a dor. Permitir-se recordar, chorar, ter saudade. Um dia a ferida cicatriza e você, de tão acostumada com ela, acaba por esquecê-la.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Martha Medeiros</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-24382418065660850062014-09-02T00:59:00.002-03:002014-09-02T00:59:50.082-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkEzQFRJHWoMiM1SoByJ06QiTDN2bNR06vwWr0Uw-fshYaqOaTAD_1_T-cuFRfzfqI4yTXz5zVw7PKGr-eV-lCmtz-Oh3t6JznZU2EDshuY2r9Qo-v6zDQjHRImtcZd_mspqGCSZtkk8Ua/s1600/123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkEzQFRJHWoMiM1SoByJ06QiTDN2bNR06vwWr0Uw-fshYaqOaTAD_1_T-cuFRfzfqI4yTXz5zVw7PKGr-eV-lCmtz-Oh3t6JznZU2EDshuY2r9Qo-v6zDQjHRImtcZd_mspqGCSZtkk8Ua/s1600/123.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Das coisas que sinto falta, a vontade de você é a maior. Sinto saudade do teu sorriso depois de um beijo torto e brincalhão. Daqueles olhos grandes e chamativos que sempre me fizeram prender a respiração. Do teu abraço acolhedor, que me dizia que tudo ia ficar bem. Do teu jeito sonhador, como quando falava do futuro, você olhava para o céu com estrelas no olhos, era incrível ver teu sorriso surgindo. Você faz tanta falta garoto. A ausência da tua voz, do teu cheiro, da tua pele, é assustadora. Teu nome está escrito em todos os lugares por onde vou e agora tenho que entender que você se foi e que nem sequer me avisou. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">a.m</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-31448162110920438112014-09-02T00:47:00.001-03:002014-09-02T00:47:53.216-03:00<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; line-height: 24px;">Porque o amor demais prejudica</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; line-height: 24px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; line-height: 24px;">Porque o amor de menos prejudica</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; line-height: 24px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; line-height: 24px;">Porque o amor é feito bebida: tem que tomar a dose certa</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; line-height: 24px;"> ♪ Cazuza</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">Porque a vida segue. Mas o que foi bonito fica com toda a força. Mesmo que a gente tente apagar com outras coisas bonitas ou leves, certos momentos nem o tempo apaga. E a gente lembra. E já não dói mais. Mas dá saudade. Uma saudade que faz os olhos brilharem por alguns segundos e um sorriso escapar volta e meia, quando a cabeça insiste em trazer a tona, o que o coração vive tentando deixar pra trás.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="background-color: transparent;">Caio F. Abreu</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-82827354167211843502014-09-01T22:29:00.001-03:002014-09-01T22:29:16.701-03:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lembra que o plano e</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">ra ficarmos bem? ♪</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-73080263571010756062014-08-22T23:53:00.000-03:002014-08-22T23:53:30.010-03:00Sr. Deus<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span>
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Ei Sr. Deus, quero que saiba que estou muito chateada viu, tantas coisas lhe peço com fé e o Sr. não faz, uma bobagem que eu disse na hora da raiva o Sr. diz amém. To tentando enfiar na mente que foi o melhor, foi o melhor, foi o melhor... mas sabe to triste, triste demais, o coração ta doendo muito, to desanimada, sem fome, sem vontade, sem brilho.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ei Sr.lhe peço do fundo do coração que me acalme, me de colo, to sofrendo demais, to com saudade, to arrependida, to culpada, to sofrida, socorre eu pai que está muito difícil.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lembro de tudo que foi bom, cada momento, revivo tudo em segundos, me ajuda a lembrar o porquê de ter sido ruim, de lembrar o lado feio da coisa.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sei que o Sr. pode mais do que eu imagino, então meu pai tira essa saudade do meu coração, só o Sr. sabe o motivo de eu ainda estar de pé, então me da ânimo. Em nome do teu filho eu peço socorro, ta doendo demais, diga amém Sr. , diga amém.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-47902348138531659242014-06-17T14:01:00.000-03:002014-06-17T14:01:34.363-03:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<img height="400" 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" 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Sorrir é bom, abraçar é gostoso, beijar é ótimo, apaixonar-se hmmm, é uma delicia</div>
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... mas subir na balança e ter perdido alguns quilinhos é melhor ainda! </div>
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Jade Stephani</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-49148149525324279212014-06-17T13:51:00.000-03:002014-06-17T13:51:15.369-03:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Muitas vezes dizemos amar, mas estamos só desrespeitando. Dizemos amar, mas estamos só impondo. Dizemos amar, mas estamos só olhando para nós mesmos. Dizemos amar, mas estamos só fazendo adoecer as belezas disponíveis. Dizemos amar, mas estamos só amarrando sementes e calando primaveras. Dizemos amar, mas estamos só inflando nuvens que escondem cada vez mais o sol. Dizemos amar, mas estamos só dizendo. Amor tem outro cheiro. Outra natureza. Outra frequência. Outro chamado. É para ser luz pra dois, com todas as sombras de cada um.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> Ana Jácomo</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-89774938768894007712014-06-17T13:37:00.003-03:002014-06-17T13:37:26.184-03:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Paciência: O intervalo entre a semente e a flor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> Ana Jácomo </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-17911179836162921582014-06-17T13:34:00.001-03:002014-06-17T13:34:16.827-03:00<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Porque é isso: quando olha, eu tenho a impressão de que a primavera beijou todos os jardins, pois tudo parece florescer onde os seus olhos descansam. Quando está feliz, eu tenho a impressão de que o mundo inteiro brinca de roda com a sua alegria. Quando está triste, eu tenho a impressão de que todos os passarinhos do planeta estão temporariamente na muda e encolheram seu canto.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://anajacomo.tumblr.com/post/21042538057/porque-e-isso-quando-olha-eu-tenho-a-impressao" style="text-decoration: none;">Ana Jácomo</a></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-9764890308859624262014-06-17T13:31:00.004-03:002014-06-17T13:31:47.862-03:00<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 11px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 11px; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444;">Ilusão: um lugar de areia movediça pra alma, onde a gente pisa jurando que é jardim.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 11px; text-align: justify;">Ana Jácomo</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-1161348542513766522014-06-17T13:29:00.000-03:002014-06-17T13:29:52.365-03:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<img height="266" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQagyXfJiwbAqve_vJ4CxhRyoN2xx004rlzgDbbxtUD2URGtfsx" width="400" /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Existem lembranças que são fontes perenes de amor. Recordá-las é como caminhar descalço na areia da praia num começo de manhã de céu azul, a brisa do mar misturada aos raios do sol, aquele ventinho morno que se derrama na pele com gentileza rara. Recordá-las é um cafuné gostoso que a vida reinventa. Quando estamos tristes, cansados, aborrecidos, também podemos ir até lá, onde essas lembranças moram… É um jeito afetivo de renovar a energia no momento presente.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> Ana Jácomo</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-6002138094201273382014-06-17T13:22:00.000-03:002014-06-17T13:22:19.318-03:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Estou desconfiada de que a gente cresce quando começa a aprender, com o sentimento, muito além da retórica, a não permitir que uma desilusão ou outra nos afaste de nós mesmos e nem dos nossos sonhos mais bonitos. Estou desconfiada de que a gente cresce quando é capaz de entender que estar vivo é perigoso, sim, é trabalhoso, sim, mas também é uma oportunidade rara e imperdível. Que há que se pagar o preço, se a ideia é ser feliz e inteiro (…)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> Ana Jácomo</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-84825987770269274452014-06-17T13:07:00.002-03:002014-06-17T13:07:45.598-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Com essa torcida "super" animada, o hexa já é nosso!</span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-33625412283652061042014-05-21T15:02:00.000-03:002014-05-21T15:02:24.027-03:00<br />
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Batidas na porta da frente</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">É o tempo</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Eu bebo um pouquinho</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Pra ter argumento</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mas fico sem jeito</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Calado, ele ri</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ele zomba</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Do quanto eu chorei</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Porque sabe passar</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">E eu não sei</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Num dia azul de verão</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sinto o vento</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Há folhas no meu coração</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">É o tempo</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Recordo um amor que perdi</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ele ri</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Diz que somos iguais</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Se eu notei</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Pois não sabe ficar</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">E eu também não sei</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">E gira em volta de mim</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sussurra que apaga os caminhos</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Que amores terminam no escuro</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sozinhos</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Respondo que ele aprisiona</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Eu liberto</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Que ele adormece as paixões</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Eu desperto</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">E o tempo se rói</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Com inveja de mim</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Me vigia querendo aprender</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Como eu morro de amor</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Pra tentar reviver</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">No fundo é uma eterna criança</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Que não soube amadurecer</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Eu posso, ele não vai poder</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><b><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Me esquecer</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 1.6;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: blue;">♪</span><span style="color: #444444;"> </span></b><span style="color: #444444;">Resposta ao tempo</span><b style="color: #444444;"> .</b></span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4951703432246210770.post-25675413337377881452014-05-21T13:51:00.000-03:002014-05-21T13:51:08.021-03:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08122971691865391331noreply@blogger.com0