tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66145695449554070192024-03-05T05:00:18.171+00:00amour. imagination. rêve.oh, ladidaa, ladidaa, ladidaa..ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-31546509980232880042011-03-29T11:59:00.011+01:002011-03-30T15:51:29.834+01:00I can't get no satisfaction.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGMV2jb8ab0X4nqUXDkUQqEtNbrSulcisUaS86rtYvecVcbh2WpWJcU-L21BJQfZzKhn9AQvFfcsZCmvmFCj1Lc5y4wstWBT3KIvW96YU-ATPcLby3gf5x4GtJ7K4U8va1n3zO_FnJiFY/s1600/3ca5fe9a_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGMV2jb8ab0X4nqUXDkUQqEtNbrSulcisUaS86rtYvecVcbh2WpWJcU-L21BJQfZzKhn9AQvFfcsZCmvmFCj1Lc5y4wstWBT3KIvW96YU-ATPcLby3gf5x4GtJ7K4U8va1n3zO_FnJiFY/s400/3ca5fe9a_large.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">M</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as afinal, que queres tu?</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eu? Sei lá.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sabes lá? Isso não é resposta para alguém da tua idade.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Que sabes tu da <u>minha</u> idade?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">É a idade das portas abertas, do poder fazer tudo o que se quer.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Estou farta de poder fazer tudo o que quero. Ás vezes é bom que nos indiquem o caminho. Que nos peguem na mão e nos guiem. O livre-arbítrio cansa-me. Andar sempre aos tropeções cansa-me. Guia-me, dá-me ordens, aponta numa direcção. Por mim! Desisto, okay? Esta permanente insatisfação está a dar cabo de mim. Não me contento com nada, quero tudo. E tudo ao mesmo tempo. Lido mal com a espera. Preciso sempre de um bocadinho a mais, um copo a mais, um bafo a mais, um beijo a mais. E no fim do dia, esse bocadinho estragou tudo. <i>'Cause I try and I try and I try and I try</i>. E não saio deste limbo, alternando entre o desespero e a vertigem de uma nova aventura. Entre a recusa e o desejo pelo confortável.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Se ao menos eu soubesse... porque quem não sabe o que quer não luta por coisa nenhuma.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I can't get no, oh no no no.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">edit: diz que é chamada a <a href="http://www.eyeweekly.com/article/55882">crise de um quarto de idade</a>.</span></span></div></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-72890460630458195142010-11-23T01:05:00.001+00:002010-11-23T01:06:18.610+00:00smoke.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPkVFrFmw1Ymw4igF_VSOM9gYhjXPuVv4QeXsHOp2F9oDq0oeiQhN5EIYH9UOOFkBditszIThIeURTus4mls4qxp_ebET86c1oHH3gjlBiMPCzoMonIamyxnDKj5GLa0fYaTaCqhQVUJg/s1600/smoke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPkVFrFmw1Ymw4igF_VSOM9gYhjXPuVv4QeXsHOp2F9oDq0oeiQhN5EIYH9UOOFkBditszIThIeURTus4mls4qxp_ebET86c1oHH3gjlBiMPCzoMonIamyxnDKj5GLa0fYaTaCqhQVUJg/s400/smoke.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">first he took an unsmoked cigar and he put it on a balance and weighed it. then he lit it up. he smoked the cigar, carefully tapping the ashes into the balance pan. when he was finished, he put the butt into the pan along with the ashes. he weighed what was there, then he subtracted that number from the original weight of the unsmoked cigar. </span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">the difference was the weight of the smoke.</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(<i>smoke, </i>wayne wang)</span></span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-41629082912777995792010-11-16T19:15:00.004+00:002010-11-19T12:06:34.706+00:00guilt.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSeaYMRwDKhWfdaCcAoK2PvaRquvmCSOaxK73wOZ4cm4ClLv6mLWpVDOuvsOSaVcV0XJnl7tEeRXYJJiJVIcxauI9TM7XmjmsCVpCOTN7z21KFTdtTG30VBJeFnRlJJDMdzrRQnCCCgZI/s1600/espelho.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSeaYMRwDKhWfdaCcAoK2PvaRquvmCSOaxK73wOZ4cm4ClLv6mLWpVDOuvsOSaVcV0XJnl7tEeRXYJJiJVIcxauI9TM7XmjmsCVpCOTN7z21KFTdtTG30VBJeFnRlJJDMdzrRQnCCCgZI/s400/espelho.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">o despertador toca.</span></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>já é de manhã? merda... que dor de cabeça infernal. </i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">olho em volta. <i>como fui aqui parar?</i> <i>estou vestida. porque é que estou vestida?</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">levanto-me e vou tacteando as paredes brancas do meu quarto escuro até à casa de banho. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">engulo a seco. tenho sede, tenho tanta sede. abro a torneira e bebo a água tépida servida nas minhas mãos.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">olho-me ao espelho. assusto-me e recuo um passo. <i>a minha cara, os meus olhos.. o que é que se passou? merda..não me lembro de nada</i>.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">olho fixamente o rosto que não reconheço: o olhar perdido e negro que vai ficando turvo e vazio. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">perco a visão e os meus ouvidos ampliam o silêncio ensurdecedor em que está presa a minha mente. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">de repente ouço sirenes, ouço carros a buzinar, pessoas que gritam por ajuda, uma confusão inexplicavelmente familiar. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">recupero a visão e perco momentaneamente os sentidos. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ainda atordoada pela experiência extra-sensorial que acabo de viver, agarro-me ao lavatório e molho a cara com àgua fria. <i>não consigo entender.. o que se passa? </i>os meus olhos vermelhos, banhados em pequenas lágrimas geladas são espelhos do terror que sinto cá dentro. <i>não percebo, não consigo entender</i>. <i>bebi? não me lembro de ter bebido</i>. não, não bebi. o meu hálito não tem o travo bafiento com que acordo depois de beber. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>preciso de sair de casa.</i> volto ao meu quarto escuro e agarro na carteira. preciso de sair de casa. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">abro a porta da rua. <i>merda, está frio...</i>não quero saber. a claridade da manhã fere-me os olhos e o latejar da minha dor de cabeça ainda me incomoda. sinto uma estranha agonia ansiosa cuja origem não consigo identificar ainda. quero ignorá-la, mas não consigo.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">vou andando, sem destino.<i> preciso de ir andando.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(continua...)</span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-72055968102437313902010-11-09T20:21:00.006+00:002010-11-10T01:19:24.469+00:00tempestades.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicc4Py4TJVb8FiFoyYFKY8HJNsdfEkOoAMcGcG7GipIPjk1LMIV9pC8ymkaaIJ7NMDvdp-Bt968PC91vpyzKG5Msi5KjJIftJ9vAJpxpXImCE02Kl7Ln1gUplCc2YbQSPSMDDPPNP8Xjg/s1600/RAIN.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicc4Py4TJVb8FiFoyYFKY8HJNsdfEkOoAMcGcG7GipIPjk1LMIV9pC8ymkaaIJ7NMDvdp-Bt968PC91vpyzKG5Msi5KjJIftJ9vAJpxpXImCE02Kl7Ln1gUplCc2YbQSPSMDDPPNP8Xjg/s400/RAIN.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537713354657136882" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.</span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >An you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others. </span></span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.</span></span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >(K<i>afka on the shore</i>, Haruki Murakami)</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >os ventos levantam-se enquanto as nuvens bloqueiam o luar. ao longe os tambores anunciam a chegada da tempestade. chove pouco, por enquanto os meus passos ecoam mais alto. vou passeando na rua despida de gente. chove muito, apresso o passo à procura de um abrigo. o som dos trovões aumenta ao mesmo tempo que os raios rasgam a negridão da noite. tenho pressa, mas hesito: agora a chuva é uma cortina que não me deixa ver o caminho. insisto, a trovoada não me mete medo. avanço. a chuva corta-me a pele à medida que avanço para lado nenhum. o meu corpo começa a ceder, não sou assim tão forte. já não consigo avançar, sinto a cabeça a cair e resigno-me à fraqueza da minha condição. desisto, mas só por hoje. hoje não. amanhã é um novo dia. </span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >até amanhã.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div></span>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-54374062043144203612010-10-25T22:34:00.006+01:002010-10-25T23:05:11.471+01:00In the mood for love.<div style="text-align: center;"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1lrFRG-rJ8s?fs=1&hl=pt_PT" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="250"></embed></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It is a restless moment.</span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">She has kept her head lowered,</span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">to give him a chance to come closer.</span></span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But he could not, for lack of courage.</span></span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">She turns and walks away.</span></span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></i></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">That era has passed.</span></span></span></i></span></div></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Nothing that belonged to it exists any more.</span></span></span></i></span></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span">(poema popular)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">senti saudades.</span></span></div></span>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-21575079283962965912010-10-09T14:10:00.002+01:002010-10-09T14:13:16.533+01:00que queres ser quando fores grande?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2vf-OWkj59l8lOwbum4NbRjNhtEbd1rg-zk-VbHrBghm-9AoqED0DGB0Tmr7SHpfgYjn2-3bFBaChXGOSOAoJq7yASj4Y_cornmSB3B2xFxnebjyusilOXR1YcCMP-dx7dtVlC1BEB-8/s1600/grow+up.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2vf-OWkj59l8lOwbum4NbRjNhtEbd1rg-zk-VbHrBghm-9AoqED0DGB0Tmr7SHpfgYjn2-3bFBaChXGOSOAoJq7yASj4Y_cornmSB3B2xFxnebjyusilOXR1YcCMP-dx7dtVlC1BEB-8/s400/grow+up.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526033195870829602" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium; color: rgb(153, 153, 153); ">com que idade é suposto sabermos responder seriamente a esta pergunta?</span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-62931737357845963232010-10-07T12:59:00.002+01:002010-10-07T13:02:22.226+01:00<object width="400" height="250"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BW_-0H_u3RQ?fs=1&hl=pt_PT"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BW_-0H_u3RQ?fs=1&hl=pt_PT" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="250"></embed></object>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-4957274366087034852010-10-06T21:46:00.004+01:002010-10-06T23:19:23.571+01:00conversas de café.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim23jPtONXBLfqt7KqZx4qbsKZPWWYuhd-czlgEQpNGoRhP5DqsNEask90zpUhjCjDqLZ1_LcWxO6nT_yaQ4Vu7seQnrO4u6oYPKd5Z17GrJFyYDXE7DNiEztYeapCCAtB_DfVukKTKRg/s1600/tumblr_l3i2mizN721qc9mh2o1_500_large.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim23jPtONXBLfqt7KqZx4qbsKZPWWYuhd-czlgEQpNGoRhP5DqsNEask90zpUhjCjDqLZ1_LcWxO6nT_yaQ4Vu7seQnrO4u6oYPKd5Z17GrJFyYDXE7DNiEztYeapCCAtB_DfVukKTKRg/s400/tumblr_l3i2mizN721qc9mh2o1_500_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525043244165059938" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" >as melhores conversas de café são aquelas que começam com um simples "lembras-te".</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" >são aquelas partilhas de memórias de uma juventude ainda tão presente, que acabam quase sempre espalhando sorrisos gratuitos: os primeiros beijos, as primeiras asneiras, os sonhos e desalentos tão próprios da idade. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" >hoje alguém me disse "acho que não vivi tudo o que tinha a viver naquela época". e eu digo: é mentira. vivemos tudo, brincámos tudo, chorámos tudo. juntos.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" >não houve juventude melhor que a minha. e não há melhores amigos que os meus. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" >tenho a certeza.</span></span></span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-26126544459938599922010-08-10T14:33:00.003+01:002010-08-10T14:37:01.807+01:00amour.<div style="text-align: left;"><object width="400" height="250"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zx8ohP7qro4&hl=pt_PT&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zx8ohP7qro4&hl=pt_PT&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="250"></embed></object></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-78331633123730500382010-06-24T21:55:00.006+01:002010-06-25T03:32:39.059+01:00quem te quer mudar, não te quer conhecer.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI5fvnFKJBy3pmUXVf_ZnWhYqvEhIAiowB5AxQG-YSQRpB1hsoTcfv837FvWFVVM5a3IZ-QiMhSIGZ7zH22tevf4qSxP7cias7LZZmQzQzJHiywBsX9BFhB9dq-Nkteh_July4rC_MQto/s1600/closer.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI5fvnFKJBy3pmUXVf_ZnWhYqvEhIAiowB5AxQG-YSQRpB1hsoTcfv837FvWFVVM5a3IZ-QiMhSIGZ7zH22tevf4qSxP7cias7LZZmQzQzJHiywBsX9BFhB9dq-Nkteh_July4rC_MQto/s400/closer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486465671559026034" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtU1bkqPLqvKPbbMe2aivqM0sD_HN2KXKU8wUQsSeLnPXBbNh4N2eTNPZXmG_V1K-pKFhUx9hETuydWJNgA_032iRMx3gDeGNykEdvemf9zb0ueSwd9tV0GwF6uRvi7_Z6aEv67Aas-zM/s1600/NataliePortman_Closer2.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "></span></span></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; font-size: medium;"><i>agora todos nós somos actores de cinema</i></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; font-family:verdana;font-size:13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">e escondemos-nos bem</span></span></span></i></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">dos olhos que o mundo tem</span></span></span></i></div><i><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">e toda a gente nos vê</span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">só não nos ouve ninguém</span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">tu não tens de ver</span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">tu não tens sequer de amar.</span></span></span></i></span></div></i></span></span></span><div style="text-align: right; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">foge foge bandido</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> - tu não tens de mudar)</span></span></i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">desabafos mudos.</span></span></span></div></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-46641986528252194312010-04-30T16:14:00.004+01:002010-06-24T23:45:13.415+01:00Amor, segundo Wong Kar Wai<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMgL-nILti6qC09x4gvqzPi6rW1IMLH-thXBX2QaHNAvdiUQJ0Yuo8Ey9QxWsJNsgs_WlqLTlkId7x-S2mhYmK_bZ2LZYN49dEVEVL9fqC-q7AqlXIyzCn6dsYfTU9AUJCRHAZUyIpjY0/s1600/inthemoodforlove-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMgL-nILti6qC09x4gvqzPi6rW1IMLH-thXBX2QaHNAvdiUQJ0Yuo8Ey9QxWsJNsgs_WlqLTlkId7x-S2mhYmK_bZ2LZYN49dEVEVL9fqC-q7AqlXIyzCn6dsYfTU9AUJCRHAZUyIpjY0/s400/inthemoodforlove-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465951574055133090" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify; font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">ao recolher informação para um trabalho que estou a fazer sobre o </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">In the Mood for Love</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"> de Wong Kar Wai, encontrei este artigo engraçado. </span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"> </span></span></div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">Love - Things Wong Kar-wai Taught Me About Love</span></span></b></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">Requited love is an impossibility.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"> </span></span></div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">You will fall in love only once. Obstacles will prevail. The rest of your life is spent recovering.</span></span></span></p><div face="arial" style="text-align: justify; "> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">Eroticising their possessions will be the pinnacle of your sexual fulfilment.</span></span></span></p><div face="arial" style="text-align: justify; "> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">Anything that distracts you from the pain of your loss is good. Some people are more successful in this regard than others.<br /></span></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; "> <span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">Hook up with someone. Live with them. Sleep with them. Tag along. Don't be fooled. You are only a transitory distraction. Ask for commitment. Declare your love. Watch the set up evaporate. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"> </span></span></div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">The most potent way to exist is to occupy someone else's imagination.</span></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; "> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">Desire is kept eternally alive by the impossibility of contact.</span></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; "> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">Modern communication enabling technologies will only heighten your sense of desolation by making you more keenly aware of the fact that no one is trying to call.</span></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"> <span style=";font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">by Alice Dallow </span><br /><br /></span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-5342410220424879492010-04-27T16:42:00.001+01:002010-04-27T16:44:32.781+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2V3vXhPi_UuJo1251EMsHFp_vubYBawfQPWYtlbWhnwIdA35y3NB8MkZ89DaYZigj4eX-mJYPFjBrw3t9nRKTbk9MBm0XM2oMwPCsgomCIM3ntw4LSPRkX46EMrAgEgG7EAKqiVpLxU/s1600/27721_381726037454_505602454_4439901_1216920_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2V3vXhPi_UuJo1251EMsHFp_vubYBawfQPWYtlbWhnwIdA35y3NB8MkZ89DaYZigj4eX-mJYPFjBrw3t9nRKTbk9MBm0XM2oMwPCsgomCIM3ntw4LSPRkX46EMrAgEgG7EAKqiVpLxU/s400/27721_381726037454_505602454_4439901_1216920_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464843186787704754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Love is our resistance</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"> They'll keep us apart and they wont to stop breaking us down</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"> Hold me</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"> our lips must always be sealed</span></span><span style="font-family: arial;">.<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><br />(muse)</span><br /></span>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-81840402051564770382010-04-20T00:21:00.003+01:002010-04-20T00:27:58.414+01:00makes me look the way I feel.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDgvSZOgJ-2FrR7aNYIyMxRDcwNr0nIH0QpcPsP0HFx6w9PERWBIUGONAa1v6FAWtWz48zFnkceq3kBqo6FmC8tiSPUJe9LP6wOnEPlJfa0T7Fc6adyr-OVzEzqg2CvQ-i8Z5lL0-FTL8/s1600/Shirley-in-The-Apartment-shirley-maclaine-5245928-1280-720.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDgvSZOgJ-2FrR7aNYIyMxRDcwNr0nIH0QpcPsP0HFx6w9PERWBIUGONAa1v6FAWtWz48zFnkceq3kBqo6FmC8tiSPUJe9LP6wOnEPlJfa0T7Fc6adyr-OVzEzqg2CvQ-i8Z5lL0-FTL8/s400/Shirley-in-The-Apartment-shirley-maclaine-5245928-1280-720.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461992854360387234" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-left: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; "><b><br /></b></dd><dd style="text-align: center;line-height: 1.5em; margin-left: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">the mirror...it's broken.<br /></span></span></i></span></span></dd><dd style="text-align: center;line-height: 1.5em; margin-left: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"> yes, I know. I like it that way. makes me look the way I feel.</span></span></i></span></dd><dd style="text-align: right;line-height: 1.5em; margin-left: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></i></span></dd><dd style="text-align: right;line-height: 1.5em; margin-left: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the apartment </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">de billy wilder)</span></span></span></i></span></dd></span>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-68763340171896065572010-04-14T19:44:00.003+01:002010-04-14T22:33:43.166+01:00fica ao menos o tempo de um cigarro.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3foiJ4j5z9zSX0hXk5eo-hxXAwwqwiycBWUA6VdmWk3LaKAxfzf9lZJHdHLq5-fOOgT4DrgnvGhuj0Iz4ISbuT0l5GHj64GrV6fe0u8ow5s_orJ56JrNjXXg0Kt1QPhOEf8Fn_P6aYo/s1600/tumblr_ksm5nlJGP51qa6tbco1_500_large.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 257px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3foiJ4j5z9zSX0hXk5eo-hxXAwwqwiycBWUA6VdmWk3LaKAxfzf9lZJHdHLq5-fOOgT4DrgnvGhuj0Iz4ISbuT0l5GHj64GrV6fe0u8ow5s_orJ56JrNjXXg0Kt1QPhOEf8Fn_P6aYo/s400/tumblr_ksm5nlJGP51qa6tbco1_500_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460066351606366178" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"><div style="display: inline !important; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">Fica ao menos o tempo de um cigarro, evita</span></i></span></div></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">comigo que este tempo ande. Lá fora estão as</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">casas, vive gente perto do candeeiro, o som</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">que nos chega apagado pela distância só</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">denuncia o nosso silêncio interrompido.</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">Ajuda-me, faremos o inventário das coisas</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">que quisemos fazer e não fizemos, mágoas</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">que deixámos esquecidas entre o ruído das</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">cidades. Fica, não te aproximes, nenhum</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">dia é menos sombrio, quando anoitecer vamos</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">ver as árvores caminhando cercando a casa.</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(hélder moura pereira)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">e todas as noites ele partia deixando para trás a promessa de voltar amanhã. e todas as noites ela o via partir junto à janela, agarrada àquelas palavras, seguindo com o olhar o homem que se misturava com o horizonte. a promessa de um amanhã mais demorado. maldito relógio que assinala a hora de partida dos amantes.</span></div></span></i></span></span></span>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-58598691297960013752010-04-12T14:43:00.006+01:002010-04-13T19:28:29.885+01:00o beijo.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibLMIzBMz7FwLk3FzAR2mdZ4xotfrAFKQTufUWn0sloiTwgoEYehfl_5lJznaf6TZZPA5RQ5AJQxPC0gCQaIOF2FG5-TqEaaBdVaWEuQIU9qwzE8ocoYgGpP_q0SqdpaxI8c99dc4tCC8/s1600/doisneau_kiss.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 324px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibLMIzBMz7FwLk3FzAR2mdZ4xotfrAFKQTufUWn0sloiTwgoEYehfl_5lJznaf6TZZPA5RQ5AJQxPC0gCQaIOF2FG5-TqEaaBdVaWEuQIU9qwzE8ocoYgGpP_q0SqdpaxI8c99dc4tCC8/s400/doisneau_kiss.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459246755472604242" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">(Robert Doisneau)</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">está uma tarde fria.</span></span></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">e a tonalidade do céu reflecte o cansaço dos que lutam contra o tempo. </span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">percorro o passeio e penso na solidão das pessoas, alheias a tudo o que s rodeia. cegas, invisíveis. submersas na imensidão da cidade da qual não sentem fazer parte. todos temos pressa. pressa de chegar. pressa de viver. pressa de morrer.</span></span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">chega.</span></span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">sente cada pedra da calçada. recusa a fugacidade do tempo. vive em slow-motion.</span></span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">….<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">beija-me, </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">take my breath away</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;">.</span></span></span></o:p></span></p>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-89363716427964897832010-03-04T20:05:00.001+00:002010-03-04T20:07:41.624+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHI-3Lh7zPfupJZu2RS2t31fvn3IVW0YX8OzF2urVZ5L274T8LVMcZYIvmO_gRNh_dtWRxCtJsZlK_yTz6K8YVDX6J9r4PebvPcMgVcZOPP-kJZJQA6VY6AwNcjBHKcySp3AsFGR-k5IU/s1600-h/tumblr_kuolexAxMj1qzmhamo1_500.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHI-3Lh7zPfupJZu2RS2t31fvn3IVW0YX8OzF2urVZ5L274T8LVMcZYIvmO_gRNh_dtWRxCtJsZlK_yTz6K8YVDX6J9r4PebvPcMgVcZOPP-kJZJQA6VY6AwNcjBHKcySp3AsFGR-k5IU/s400/tumblr_kuolexAxMj1qzmhamo1_500.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444872598289597554" /></a>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-88042350560727550112010-03-03T01:06:00.002+00:002010-03-03T01:23:03.995+00:00espécie de fuga.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoY4V_SOhTR1YLQT8HCxjn6nx_-GVoznC7W9ZqlbKIOH60M2m4Gj2mQlWky3E29O8ezg92i9lOB4SSalQJsHWBE8yp_EVBIU_kXNpf9FLqZJoaB5Y_y9hM8bhCy_jPhCIcT3i6VGalzw/s1600-h/tumblr_kv2o1lYXsK1qaw43ko1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuoY4V_SOhTR1YLQT8HCxjn6nx_-GVoznC7W9ZqlbKIOH60M2m4Gj2mQlWky3E29O8ezg92i9lOB4SSalQJsHWBE8yp_EVBIU_kXNpf9FLqZJoaB5Y_y9hM8bhCy_jPhCIcT3i6VGalzw/s400/tumblr_kv2o1lYXsK1qaw43ko1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444211834787556434" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div>às vezes, encontro-me presa nas malhas da contingência.</div></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>CONTINGÊNCIAS</i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><i> . </i></span></b><i>pequenos acontecimentos, incidentes, inquietações, ninharias, mesquinhisses, futilidades, hábitos da existência apaixonadas; todo o núcleo factual de uma retumbância que acaba por manchar a visão de felicidade do sujeito apaixonado, como se o acaso fizesse intriga contra ele.</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">fragmentos de um discurso amoroso</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, roland barthes)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">nunca faz sol nesse lugar. nunca.</span></span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-1244974204606187742010-03-02T00:00:00.004+00:002010-03-02T00:22:11.581+00:00a inacção consola de tudo.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMN8eWd2UEabk5pIuc_etgaeg4xz-dzyhwK-xaJ89fkwSY_Q2kwHMKNEXGNBF630afKU9FASnAlvHJ_6-G5kjDC5tb9L5ct80c9xp-gBrMiIZqBVaJJqBHapZFqVBhyrAXQ5iCllqym4c/s1600-h/4205407315_596aa127b0_large.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 312px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMN8eWd2UEabk5pIuc_etgaeg4xz-dzyhwK-xaJ89fkwSY_Q2kwHMKNEXGNBF630afKU9FASnAlvHJ_6-G5kjDC5tb9L5ct80c9xp-gBrMiIZqBVaJJqBHapZFqVBhyrAXQ5iCllqym4c/s400/4205407315_596aa127b0_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443820764243779186" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">a inacção consola de tudo. não agir dá-nos tudo. imaginar é tudo, desde que não tenda para agir. nínguém pode ser rei do mundo senão em sonho. e cada um de nós, se deveras se conhece, quer ser rei do mundo.</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">temos o que abdicamos, porque o conservamos sonhado, intacto, eternamente à luz do sol que não há, ou da lua que não pode haver.</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">livro do desassossego</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, fernando pessoa)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">agi.</span></span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-16437430822803798192010-02-20T00:45:00.003+00:002010-02-20T01:01:40.493+00:00sou.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaL3BLfU1FAl6W7GMO7KtQ6sHcdmLnXyBl1qUHsRCBntYQC1e5VtLzpRQxtkTFirlYCRos-CAl66CRhn5yvSNjDSZjLxT7Zh-OyRHFeXxhLASl_MTFASS54mThYJ9dGXfNZLXuqKfborM/s1600-h/tumblr_ktxkkio81d1qzcso1o1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaL3BLfU1FAl6W7GMO7KtQ6sHcdmLnXyBl1qUHsRCBntYQC1e5VtLzpRQxtkTFirlYCRos-CAl66CRhn5yvSNjDSZjLxT7Zh-OyRHFeXxhLASl_MTFASS54mThYJ9dGXfNZLXuqKfborM/s400/tumblr_ktxkkio81d1qzcso1o1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440120469738245794" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(67, 67, 67); line-height: 17px; "><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; ">sou as pessoas que amo. a música que oiço. as coisas que vejo. sou todas as cores e por vezes só branco e negro. um dia de sol ventoso e a noite de lua cheia. aquela que ri de tudo e de nada. a chuva melancólica de outono. sou tudo isso e muito mais, ou talvez isso menos muitas coisas.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(texto escrito há uns anos. no entanto, tão actual.)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">sou isto, sou aquilo. sou tudo e tão pouco. sou tão menos do que queria ser.</span></span></div></span>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-3748232283437965472010-02-10T23:31:00.005+00:002010-02-11T00:21:37.703+00:00se me perguntarem onde estive, respondo (sucintamente)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmSV8SzPVfuEz2nXaQMFZjRi8Nkz5_cF8YVHakXz5xabjr3l1-BeKf83aFJfih7HXx1NX5mFa67RVzRHhm68f_unZKyqyo4NaqDSgdTq-J1ALHMl5jK8pptaPXuAnyemBTWTysh9R0M4k/s1600-h/tumblr_ku4q74mMJj1qzymato1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmSV8SzPVfuEz2nXaQMFZjRi8Nkz5_cF8YVHakXz5xabjr3l1-BeKf83aFJfih7HXx1NX5mFa67RVzRHhm68f_unZKyqyo4NaqDSgdTq-J1ALHMl5jK8pptaPXuAnyemBTWTysh9R0M4k/s400/tumblr_ku4q74mMJj1qzymato1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436772058686354178" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">walter beijamin. aura. obra de arte. reprodutibilidade. victor hugo. habermas. público. multidões. massa. saperas. lasswel. lazarsfeld. espaço público. espaço privado. media. efeitos. sociedade. gittlin. paradigmas. comportamento. cognição. agenda-setting. tematização. kittler. bolter. simondon. heidegger. gestell. técnica e técnica. freud. uncanny. medo. muito medo. platão. fedro. escrita. memória. amor. speaking into the air. experiência. foucault. vigiar. punir. panóptico. kant. adorno. industria da cultura. cinema. planos. wong kar wai. estética .multimédia. web. web 2.0. web 3.0. tecnologia. desenvolvimento. digital. pnju. estágio. citi. câmaras. premiere. aulas.</span></div></span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">e pelo meio, os três livros da colecção millenium de stieg larsson. *uff*</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">and there you go..</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">andava cheia de vontade de voltar aqui. :)</span></div></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-22095865515486985772010-01-07T23:16:00.004+00:002010-02-08T00:07:29.224+00:00happy together.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJ0KFW2EtTbP90LVgyZG7nrLNjfGXIun9y-IV7re8QilnwhH8H15JV-Yu-0TVXOkSZgIqke3USzuTVS9GT5aWCar71k4WsPNFCUQo6DCWFf6oRgluCqDGJJYD4_6NzFwmtiHnlljJAJ8/s1600-h/happy+together.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJ0KFW2EtTbP90LVgyZG7nrLNjfGXIun9y-IV7re8QilnwhH8H15JV-Yu-0TVXOkSZgIqke3USzuTVS9GT5aWCar71k4WsPNFCUQo6DCWFf6oRgluCqDGJJYD4_6NzFwmtiHnlljJAJ8/s400/happy+together.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424142012182691538" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><i>turns out that lonely people are all the same.</i></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">(</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">happy together</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"> de wong kar vai)</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a história de amor de dois homens que viviam para recomeçar de novo. o amor, a esperança, a desilusão, a solidão e a tristeza.. todos estes sentimentos envolvidos num jogo de fotografia, filtros, luzes, velocidade e som que tornam wong kar wai num dos melhores cineastas da actualidade.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-61002155487607834182010-01-01T16:16:00.003+00:002010-01-01T16:23:25.266+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlgwdYLPLkfbgus9SCSTRcSWQE7WTG6BBh3gvuPMnbHJQzGuYrUKEsERJKeqgT1U4wq03y5fYPpcNxJVfGqpg9FwdPOlRToR9Fs3m8l3lykRmVzsR9tqbKpebF_RoO3WQWINYhpfMwLGI/s1600-h/old-blake-edwards-breakfast-at-tiffanys-audrey-hepburn-dvd-review-528.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlgwdYLPLkfbgus9SCSTRcSWQE7WTG6BBh3gvuPMnbHJQzGuYrUKEsERJKeqgT1U4wq03y5fYPpcNxJVfGqpg9FwdPOlRToR9Fs3m8l3lykRmVzsR9tqbKpebF_RoO3WQWINYhpfMwLGI/s400/old-blake-edwards-breakfast-at-tiffanys-audrey-hepburn-dvd-review-528.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421806432360780162" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEDayDkm4Qi7HGKWZnurSdGAiCoxl84P6lO-Z4z7HNv-7NRkcm-e9yAdPhhGctn3xd_Y9a-9iycrHL83DDhSkg4O0oGZ1hC7XuKAd2gGThqc0kMEwZl07UqLvHxqRGZFU-kq0V9GmcLs/s1600-h/tumblr_kvbcky5reB1qa4fsfo1_500.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEDayDkm4Qi7HGKWZnurSdGAiCoxl84P6lO-Z4z7HNv-7NRkcm-e9yAdPhhGctn3xd_Y9a-9iycrHL83DDhSkg4O0oGZ1hC7XuKAd2gGThqc0kMEwZl07UqLvHxqRGZFU-kq0V9GmcLs/s400/tumblr_kvbcky5reB1qa4fsfo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421806303610628786" /></a><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-31875284135264776862009-12-30T17:19:00.007+00:002009-12-30T17:41:49.440+00:00whatever works & cerimónias.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOgiiyiCF4wFEHDPnOTFlxCln9KzW7PTNtNUOg7Yl9vd0XJS6NZTQuqLrIq_q8od38pun_rEDTOkr8ZQ5u0kigd1eXbrF20UuRVmHWyj6Zm-yXqzRMj_Nt_WKfr_1AyrpBNYLpFPEhtsc/s1600-h/photo_05.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOgiiyiCF4wFEHDPnOTFlxCln9KzW7PTNtNUOg7Yl9vd0XJS6NZTQuqLrIq_q8od38pun_rEDTOkr8ZQ5u0kigd1eXbrF20UuRVmHWyj6Zm-yXqzRMj_Nt_WKfr_1AyrpBNYLpFPEhtsc/s400/photo_05.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421079788436591090" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1PLSaMEKx3UbNbjI8N5kw4bsWQx3U4r9dSj-z9s1WVj6hcJ4775DRpHzN78pbYLesz64GlYh5X_pNuJ3V7vU68BGsu_QP0FXeh0KcYTCy1cRy4vCTfEYHC17wHM1Z8ZZWTRn3eZALQ8/s1600-h/whatever-works-david-wood.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1PLSaMEKx3UbNbjI8N5kw4bsWQx3U4r9dSj-z9s1WVj6hcJ4775DRpHzN78pbYLesz64GlYh5X_pNuJ3V7vU68BGsu_QP0FXeh0KcYTCy1cRy4vCTfEYHC17wHM1Z8ZZWTRn3eZALQ8/s400/whatever-works-david-wood.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418783480533211634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px; font-family:arial;font-size:large;"><i>I happen to hate New Year's celebrations. Everybody desperate to have fun. Trying to celebrate in some pathetic little way. Celebrate what? A step closer to the grave? That's why I can't say enough times, whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever works. And don't kid yourself. Because its by no means up to your own human ingenuity. A bigger part of your existence is luck, than you'd like to admit. Christ, you know the odds of your fathers one sperm from the billions, finding the single egg that made you. Don't think about it, you'll have a panic attack.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(whatever works de <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">woody allen</span>)</span></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px; font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">soube tão bem voltar à nova iorque de woody allen. :)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">por aqui, combinam-se os preparativos para o último dia do ano. tudo na véspera, como já é tradição. o meu vestidinho:</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMBS7_80U-8OLzVvzWvGjLdFFqW2R7FHFuSq_iSw53NiI_7mEiQu4Zq2OiPrFqVXllIQEIHNq45cDBzy2_u9ei9kGPCKSCrPF0zvWMlQE-ACI1X7BuoqcJoUajRwElzj8zM25jTKfbJqg/s320/vestido+pda.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421082150587136018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 236px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(não é o mais prático para festejar pelas ruas nazarenas, mas quando eu o comprei estava convencida que ia passar o ano em lisboa -.-'.. nada que um par de all stars não resolva!)</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;">tenham um óptimo ano! <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;">♥</span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"></span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-15201022039625174022009-12-25T15:43:00.004+00:002009-12-25T16:01:57.043+00:00lições quotidianas.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzmrkS7TNafWVaagAvgu63MH-bPopVG5DmIxekWucEa-grN2R37jqqtFpeD5uy8pso_7hVIVv5JgXm9HUBKAheVvISkiYkQJS3DL-38N65Le_asnOO8Qp8yRfHyee4u_pDtUnVUjKrTz4/s1600-h/Istanbul_Not_Constantinople_by_hakanphotography.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzmrkS7TNafWVaagAvgu63MH-bPopVG5DmIxekWucEa-grN2R37jqqtFpeD5uy8pso_7hVIVv5JgXm9HUBKAheVvISkiYkQJS3DL-38N65Le_asnOO8Qp8yRfHyee4u_pDtUnVUjKrTz4/s400/Istanbul_Not_Constantinople_by_hakanphotography.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419200612233967954" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">ser compreendido é prostituir-se.</span></b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(<i>livro do desassossego</i>, fernando pessoa)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">e eu que andei enganada toda a vida.</span></span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6614569544955407019.post-53906973356426944112009-12-24T12:48:00.005+00:002009-12-24T16:26:32.828+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXQUj1eEolyEZItkKy9e13lDzXpum_9lP2cQ7_It2Mwmeq_7I_LZEXbAbNf0QK9XEiljQAvOWD8-K9717mv9TENfZyeIgsyH7wR9GKHNPu3Kofu1FcYBAwKdQXqRiIDtZsUBYEg8g637g/s1600-h/tumblr_kundjc0vdv1qzoaqio1_1280%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXQUj1eEolyEZItkKy9e13lDzXpum_9lP2cQ7_It2Mwmeq_7I_LZEXbAbNf0QK9XEiljQAvOWD8-K9717mv9TENfZyeIgsyH7wR9GKHNPu3Kofu1FcYBAwKdQXqRiIDtZsUBYEg8g637g/s400/tumblr_kundjc0vdv1qzoaqio1_1280%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418784367013799586" /></a><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">feliz natal</span></div>ana camõeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554520208121928612noreply@blogger.com1