<?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-2815365824489069316</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:18:25.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De tudo um pouco e um pouco mais</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lisiane M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10751120426274991986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jivPm29XAQw/SV9dbraMuUI/AAAAAAAAABc/R6AyK0kla_Y/S220/Imagem+857.jpg'/></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-2815365824489069316.post-3015728162893070613</id><published>2009-01-31T03:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T09:41:22.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Penso, logo existo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Assim que penso percebo que existo, mas, assim que existo comprovo que penso? Quantas pessoas passam pelo mundo somente existindo? Quantas pessoas trocam a vida por um simples existir? E o que necessariamente seria 'existir'? E como será que é viver? Assim como Descartes, acredito que, no momento em que pensamos comprovamos a nossa existência, mas, não creio que todas as pessoas que existem são capazes de pensar. Parece contraditório, não? Acontece que, se certas pessoas parassem para pensar, não haveria pequenos problemas que se espalham pelo mundo com tamanha intensidade. Um exemplo? Preconceito. O que é o preconceito? Nada mais que um imperfeito criticando outro imperfeito, mas, que, por ser algo tão simples, acaba se manifestando de forma tão expansiva. Talvez se, disponibilizássemos um tempo ao verdadeiro pensar, perceberíamos que o viver vai muito além de uma mera existência.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Lisiane M.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2815365824489069316-3015728162893070613?l=detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/feeds/3015728162893070613/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/penso-logo-existo.html#comment-form' title='10 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/3015728162893070613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/3015728162893070613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/penso-logo-existo.html' title='Penso, logo existo'/><author><name>Lisiane M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10751120426274991986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jivPm29XAQw/SV9dbraMuUI/AAAAAAAAABc/R6AyK0kla_Y/S220/Imagem+857.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2815365824489069316.post-5570357113334316915</id><published>2009-01-17T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T03:51:03.884-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sempre me perguntei qual seria o real sentido do verbo “amar”. De tanto me questionar cheguei à conclusão que o amor não passa de uma ilusão. Uma ilusão boa, porém, uma ilusão.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje amo ele, amanhã não. Amanhã amo outro, que acredito amar mais que qualquer pessoa, mais que qualquer futuro amor e, então, me dou conta que, no passado, pensei da mesma forma, e que aquele futuro amor seria ele, o atual.&lt;br /&gt;Com isso concluo que muitas pessoas são capazes de viver de ilusões e que, muitas vezes, são essas tais ilusões as responsáveis pela nossa felicidade. Descubro então que temos a capacidade de nos iludir diversas vezes e que cada ilusão consegue ser diferente da que foi vivida anteriormente.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Lisiane M.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2815365824489069316-5570357113334316915?l=detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/feeds/5570357113334316915/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/sempre-me-perguntei-qual-seria-o-real.html#comment-form' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/5570357113334316915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/5570357113334316915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/sempre-me-perguntei-qual-seria-o-real.html' title='Amar'/><author><name>Lisiane M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10751120426274991986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jivPm29XAQw/SV9dbraMuUI/AAAAAAAAABc/R6AyK0kla_Y/S220/Imagem+857.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2815365824489069316.post-524586032184288033</id><published>2009-01-04T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T23:57:19.952-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Um certo autoretrato</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nasceu em 1992.&lt;br /&gt;Altura 1,57.&lt;br /&gt;Sapato nº 36.&lt;br /&gt;Adora a companhia dos amigos.&lt;br /&gt;Prefere ficar em casa.&lt;br /&gt;Ama animais.&lt;br /&gt;Sonha em ser veterinária.&lt;br /&gt;Ama música&lt;br /&gt;Tem pavor de telefones.&lt;br /&gt;Fascinada por chocolates.&lt;br /&gt;Ama sua família.&lt;br /&gt;É bastante reservada.&lt;br /&gt;Não lhe agrada pessoas frias.&lt;br /&gt;Muito crítica.&lt;br /&gt;Sabe ser cruel.&lt;br /&gt;Sua leitura preferida: William Shakespeare.&lt;br /&gt;Procura respeitar a sociedade.&lt;br /&gt;Um tanto quanto distraída.&lt;br /&gt;Possui grande dificuldade para mentir.&lt;br /&gt;É bastante realista.&lt;br /&gt;Tem medo da solidão.&lt;br /&gt;Muito vaidosa.&lt;br /&gt;Adora dançar.&lt;br /&gt;Não fuma.&lt;br /&gt;Não bebe.&lt;br /&gt;Ansiosa.&lt;br /&gt;Perfeccionista.&lt;br /&gt;Muitas vezes incompreendida.&lt;br /&gt;Deseja ser feliz.&lt;br /&gt;Considera-se imortal até que lhe provem o contrário.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lisiane M.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2815365824489069316-524586032184288033?l=detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/feeds/524586032184288033/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/um-certo-autoretrato.html#comment-form' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/524586032184288033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/524586032184288033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/um-certo-autoretrato.html' title='Um certo autoretrato'/><author><name>Lisiane M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10751120426274991986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jivPm29XAQw/SV9dbraMuUI/AAAAAAAAABc/R6AyK0kla_Y/S220/Imagem+857.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2815365824489069316.post-8332828447856682567</id><published>2009-01-04T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T09:29:05.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chover</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A chuva cai. Cai a qualquer momento, a qualquer horário, assim como os sonhos, que, certa hora, se desmancham, e esse desmanchar causa imensas sensações, diversas emoções. Emoções que nos são apresentadas ao longo de nossa vida, em meio a tanta chuva. Vida que, quando é vivida, nos permite sonhar, nos obriga a chover. Ao cair da chuva, caem os planos, e com eles, as promessas. Ao cair da chuva, brotam os ramos que crescem sem pressa. Ramos de amor, tranquilidade, paz e felicidade, para que, no futuro, possamos sonhar, chover, e, assim, viver.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;Lisiane M.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2815365824489069316-8332828447856682567?l=detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/feeds/8332828447856682567/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/chover.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/8332828447856682567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/8332828447856682567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/chover.html' title='Chover'/><author><name>Lisiane M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10751120426274991986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jivPm29XAQw/SV9dbraMuUI/AAAAAAAAABc/R6AyK0kla_Y/S220/Imagem+857.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2815365824489069316.post-561611609872852082</id><published>2009-01-03T03:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T09:26:16.594-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vivenciando</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vivia no mundo da lua,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;andando nas ruas,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;parando no tempo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vivia seguindo o vento,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vivendo os momentos em seus pensamentos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vivia. Agora não vive mais.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tempos esses que ficaram para trás.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lisiane M.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2815365824489069316-561611609872852082?l=detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/feeds/561611609872852082/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/vivia-no-mundo-da-lua-andando-nas-ruas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/561611609872852082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/561611609872852082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/vivia-no-mundo-da-lua-andando-nas-ruas.html' title='Vivenciando'/><author><name>Lisiane M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10751120426274991986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jivPm29XAQw/SV9dbraMuUI/AAAAAAAAABc/R6AyK0kla_Y/S220/Imagem+857.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2815365824489069316.post-1402741760570310753</id><published>2009-01-03T01:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T09:27:19.129-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quem sou eu?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não sei quem sou e nem ao menos como deveria ser. Apenas sei que sou quem sou, e não pretendo me importar com o que não sou. Quero ser quem sempre fui, mesmo não sabendo o que isso possa ser. Ser assim e só assim ser? Não sei. Melhor que assim ser e ser assim só.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lisiane M.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2815365824489069316-1402741760570310753?l=detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/feeds/1402741760570310753/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/quem-sou-eu.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/1402741760570310753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2815365824489069316/posts/default/1402741760570310753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://detudoumpoucoeumpoucomais.blogspot.com/2009/01/quem-sou-eu.html' title='Quem sou eu?'/><author><name>Lisiane M.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10751120426274991986</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jivPm29XAQw/SV9dbraMuUI/AAAAAAAAABc/R6AyK0kla_Y/S220/Imagem+857.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
