<?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-4027633218671728539</id><updated>2011-11-07T08:23:53.141-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A minha versão da historia torta</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>PollyAna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14725944305959642913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027633218671728539.post-7133123905630420263</id><published>2008-03-11T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T17:01:26.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Abraços de quem chegou..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cWHL8oErI/AAAAAAAAACk/BuK5VhE1TTA/s1600-h/sem+tÃ&amp;shy;tuloghjgh.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176630609407644338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cWHL8oErI/AAAAAAAAACk/BuK5VhE1TTA/s200/sem+t%C3%ADtuloghjgh.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hoje eu senti um abraço e foi fácil notar que nada tinha a ver com o seu. Eu não me senti naqueles braços, porque em nada eles se pareciam comigo; eles tentavam me aquecer com um carecer e não um querer. Foi então que percebi que amanhã ao te encontrar eu preciso olhar em seus olhos e depois te abraçar calorosamente para poder sentir, apenas sentir o seu calor que tão intensamente não deixa espaços para um querer egoísta e apenas necessário.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;" Infelizmente,&lt;br /&gt;há braços que foram feitos para as batalhas,&lt;br /&gt;e não para os abraços."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4027633218671728539-7133123905630420263?l=ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/feeds/7133123905630420263/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4027633218671728539&amp;postID=7133123905630420263' title='17 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/7133123905630420263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/7133123905630420263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/2008/03/abraos-de-quem-chegou.html' title='&quot;Abraços de quem chegou...&quot;'/><author><name>PollyAna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14725944305959642913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cWHL8oErI/AAAAAAAAACk/BuK5VhE1TTA/s72-c/sem+t%C3%ADtuloghjgh.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027633218671728539.post-3732418444378748407</id><published>2008-03-03T18:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T16:55:54.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cYi78oEuI/AAAAAAAAAC8/isGQ-O9opHA/s1600-h/relogio-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176633285172269794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 177px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="171" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cYi78oEuI/AAAAAAAAAC8/isGQ-O9opHA/s200/relogio-thumb.jpg" width="214" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Muito além do labirinto pensante esta o inebriante, por todas as direções; está no que se move paralelamente com os desejos das almas que só querem vida. Está na liberdade, na amizade e na simples cumplicidade de se ter optado por mais viver. Porque são longe das armaduras da precisão do tempo que estão os sorrisos; e os ponteiros do mundo que não se atrevam a não me consentir horas ao acaso!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Sou um pescador de sonhos,&lt;br /&gt;Um garimpeiro da felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;Amo o longe, o inatingível.&lt;br /&gt;Sonhos imensos, tensos,&lt;br /&gt;Densos, sonhos de viver.&lt;br /&gt;De beber a vida e se saciar.&lt;br /&gt;Se embriagar, tomar&lt;br /&gt;Porres de felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;Pesco em mares arredios,&lt;br /&gt;Calmos, normais.&lt;br /&gt;Garimpo em todos os cantos,&lt;br /&gt;Nos pequenos gestos,&lt;br /&gt;Nas pequenas coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Procuro encontrar o brilho&lt;br /&gt;Nos olhos, o brilhante&lt;br /&gt;Incandescente que existe&lt;br /&gt;Em tudo.&lt;br /&gt;Sou feliz do meu jeito.&lt;br /&gt;E no meu peito explode&lt;br /&gt;Todos os dias um turbilhão&lt;br /&gt;De cores, odores, gestos,&lt;br /&gt;Jeitos e sonhos.&lt;br /&gt;Sou um pescador de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Isco-me todos os dias.&lt;br /&gt;Garimpo as minhas idéias,&lt;br /&gt;As minhas vontades.&lt;br /&gt;Escolho, separo, reparo,&lt;br /&gt;Rearumo, desarumo, mudo&lt;br /&gt;O rumo, começo tudo&lt;br /&gt;Outra vez...&lt;br /&gt;De novo, sempre,&lt;br /&gt;Necessariamente.&lt;br /&gt;Dia à dia.&lt;br /&gt;Hora à Hora.&lt;br /&gt;Agora. "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4027633218671728539-3732418444378748407?l=ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/feeds/3732418444378748407/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4027633218671728539&amp;postID=3732418444378748407' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/3732418444378748407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/3732418444378748407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/2008/03/muito-alm-do-labirinto-pensante-esta-o.html' title=''/><author><name>PollyAna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14725944305959642913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cYi78oEuI/AAAAAAAAAC8/isGQ-O9opHA/s72-c/relogio-thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027633218671728539.post-7680225117109962470</id><published>2008-02-27T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T17:07:11.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>doce infância</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cZGL8oEvI/AAAAAAAAADE/astYpLlv-Dw/s1600-h/Child%20with%20a%20Book.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176633890762658546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="200" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cZGL8oEvI/AAAAAAAAADE/astYpLlv-Dw/s200/Child%2520with%2520a%2520Book.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Quando eu era criança, por volta dos 8 anos, eu fugiu da sala de aula e me escondia na biblioteca. Eu subia em uma das prateleiras e ficava ali no escuro tentando entender mais de mim e das belas palavras de Machado de Assis.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje com 1,72 de altura ainda me sinto uma pequenina com o livro nas mãos buscando mais de mim e ansiando por mais vida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;ps: Aqui ainda chove, mas o vendaval passou.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4027633218671728539-7680225117109962470?l=ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/feeds/7680225117109962470/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4027633218671728539&amp;postID=7680225117109962470' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/7680225117109962470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/7680225117109962470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/2008/02/quando-eu-criana-por-volta-dos-8-anos.html' title='doce infância'/><author><name>PollyAna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14725944305959642913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cZGL8oEvI/AAAAAAAAADE/astYpLlv-Dw/s72-c/Child%2520with%2520a%2520Book.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027633218671728539.post-2218071366940143533</id><published>2008-02-23T15:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T17:06:47.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cZsL8oEwI/AAAAAAAAADM/FYPV1NRf04c/s1600-h/15739934.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176634543597687554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 199px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 174px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="174" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cZsL8oEwI/AAAAAAAAADM/FYPV1NRf04c/s200/15739934.jpg" width="128" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A chuva não para de cair lá fora e tudo está tão embaçado por aqui!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"(...) Estou por assim dizer vendo claramente o vazio&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E nem entendo aquilo que entendo: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;pois estou infinitamente maior que eu mesma, e não me alcanço.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Além do que: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que faço dessa lucidez?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sei também que esta minha lucidez&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;pode-se tornar o inferno humano&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;- já me aconteceu antes(...)"&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4027633218671728539-2218071366940143533?l=ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/feeds/2218071366940143533/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4027633218671728539&amp;postID=2218071366940143533' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/2218071366940143533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/2218071366940143533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/2008/02/chuva-no-para-de-cair-l-fora-e-tudo.html' title=''/><author><name>PollyAna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14725944305959642913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cZsL8oEwI/AAAAAAAAADM/FYPV1NRf04c/s72-c/15739934.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027633218671728539.post-6230133459373051923</id><published>2008-02-19T12:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T17:06:03.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Pra que manter os pés no chão se todo mundo quer voar!?!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cavb8oExI/AAAAAAAAADU/RLGT-fpWm5o/s1600-h/DSC03364.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176635698943890194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="200" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cavb8oExI/AAAAAAAAADU/RLGT-fpWm5o/s200/DSC03364.JPG" width="197" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ontem nas nuvens quando eu gargalhei me disseram que não ter medo é não ter noção do perigo. Mas ao olhar o céu, o mar e ao sentir o vento eu percebi que não arriscar é desconhecer a vida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Vento, ventania, agora que estou solto na vida&lt;br /&gt;Me leve pra qualquer lugar&lt;br /&gt;Me leve, mas não me faça voltar."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4027633218671728539-6230133459373051923?l=ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/feeds/6230133459373051923/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4027633218671728539&amp;postID=6230133459373051923' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/6230133459373051923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/6230133459373051923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/2008/02/pra-que-manter-os-ps-no-cho-se-todo.html' title='&quot;Pra que manter os pés no chão se todo mundo quer voar!?!&quot;'/><author><name>PollyAna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14725944305959642913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cavb8oExI/AAAAAAAAADU/RLGT-fpWm5o/s72-c/DSC03364.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027633218671728539.post-6393823724274509250</id><published>2008-02-12T17:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T16:52:31.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rindo ou chorando!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176636141325521698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 171px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="150" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cbJL8oEyI/AAAAAAAAADg/c_tiL3eB3o0/s200/Ceu1800.jpg" width="217" border="0" /&gt;Ontem choveu e eu não conseguia ver sorrisos, fugi das palavras que buscavam tantas definições e que me torturavam. Mas hoje o céu amanheceu tão lindo, claro; e eu senti as letras escorregarem pelos meus dedos me ensinando a contar rindo ou chorando o quanto de algum modo a vida sempre vai valer a pena!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4027633218671728539-6393823724274509250?l=ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/feeds/6393823724274509250/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4027633218671728539&amp;postID=6393823724274509250' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/6393823724274509250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4027633218671728539/posts/default/6393823724274509250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ahistoriatorta.blogspot.com/2008/02/ontem-choveu-e-eu-no-conseguia-ver.html' title='rindo ou chorando!'/><author><name>PollyAna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14725944305959642913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7bfNmFO7om8/R9cbJL8oEyI/AAAAAAAAADg/c_tiL3eB3o0/s72-c/Ceu1800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
