<?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-2324342309243038394</id><updated>2012-02-16T11:27:22.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meus pensamentos minha vida</title><subtitle type='html'>Neste blog tento expor meus pensamentos, coisas que me passam na cabeça a todo instante e que não falo, quero apenas deixar escrito o que penso e desejo, espero que pessoas desconhecidas ou conhecidas leiam e reflitam sobre pensamentos humanos de um homem comum.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-7828610335913165061</id><published>2010-03-08T03:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T17:29:23.389-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A mais bela flor</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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&lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin-top:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-right:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0cm; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;color:black;"  &gt;É manhã no paraíso, uma flor se abre. A mais bela flor que já se viu e com um perfume divino.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;color:black;"  &gt;É a obra prima de Deus, uma nova flor que vem pra perfumar a vida do homem, pra torna - lá completa.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;color:black;"  &gt;É a flor companheira, irmã, amiga, filha, avó, mãe.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;color:black;"  &gt;Quem bom poder acordar e logo cedo sentir seu perfume, ver sua beleza e sentir sua presença.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;color:black;"  &gt;Neste dia maravilhoso o Homem sentiu-se completo e sentiu que agora sim o paraíso estava perfeito, pois a mais bela flor havia nascido.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;color:black;"  &gt;Essa perfeição de flor tem um nome: MULHER.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;color:black;"  &gt;Um dia só é pouco para homenagear criatura tão importante, tão bela e tão generosa.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;color:black;"  &gt;Todo homem sabe, mesmo aquele que &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;tenta ignorar, que não seria nada sem ela, mesmo que pudéssemos nos reproduzir sem ela, não seriamos nada, pois elas não nos dá somente a vida elas são nossas vidas.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:10pt;color:black;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Parabéns pelo seu dia e que você receba esta homenagem a cada dia de sua vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-7828610335913165061?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/7828610335913165061/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2010/03/mais-bela-flor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/7828610335913165061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/7828610335913165061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2010/03/mais-bela-flor.html' title='A mais bela flor'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-2014519216539954287</id><published>2009-12-24T04:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T04:06:24.462-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Espírito de natal</title><content type='html'>Pra entender o Natal você precisa abrir seu coração e voltar a ser criança.&lt;br /&gt;Na infância o natal tem uma magia &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;única&lt;/span&gt; que encanta não só pelos presentes, mas pelo clima de natal, os enfeites, as luzes.&lt;br /&gt;Quem não se emociona com uma bela canção de natal? Quem não dá um sorriso ou um &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tchauzinho&lt;/span&gt; pro Papai &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Noel&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;O clima de festa, mas também de respeito, os comerciais de &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt;, os produtos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;natalinos&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;panetone&lt;/span&gt;, vinhos, nozes, perus e diversas coisas boas de comer e de olhar, tudo isso forma um clima diferente com todo mundo meio preguiçoso só esperando a noite chegar pra viver este sonho de infância, esta noite tão bela.&lt;br /&gt;Acordar e olhar na árvore ou na meia, procurar seu presente e lembrar da noite festiva, chorar por quem não veio ou não está mais aqui pra participar, se lamentar por não ter dito algo de bom pra ele ou ela no ultimo natal que tiveram juntos.&lt;br /&gt;As lembranças dos natais passados são como belas poesias onde tudo parece perfeito e a nostalgia sempre vem acompanhada de lágrimas.&lt;br /&gt;Mas também tem os sonhos dos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;próximos&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;natais&lt;/span&gt;, que &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;serão&lt;/span&gt; lindos e com muita alegria.&lt;br /&gt;Como é bom ser humano pra poder viver este sonho de felicidade e amor que é o natal.&lt;br /&gt;Espero viver muito ainda pra curtir este clima e esta alegria por muitos anos com as pessoas que amo.&lt;br /&gt;Feliz natal!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-2014519216539954287?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/2014519216539954287/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/12/espirito-de-natal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2014519216539954287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2014519216539954287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/12/espirito-de-natal.html' title='Espírito de natal'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-1935861746976116331</id><published>2009-12-24T03:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T17:27:07.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Natal</title><content type='html'>Natal é data santa, mas que se &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;comemora&lt;/span&gt; a riqueza de uns e a desgraça de outros.&lt;br /&gt;Quem se lembra de Jesus no natal mais do que do papai &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Noel&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;Quem ajuda os necessitados todo ano ou só no natal?&lt;br /&gt;Natal é comercio, natal é dinheiro.&lt;br /&gt;Sofrimento de muitos e felicidades de outros.&lt;br /&gt;Como disse o poeta, uns nascem pra sofrer enquanto o outro ri.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-1935861746976116331?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/1935861746976116331/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/12/natal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/1935861746976116331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/1935861746976116331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/12/natal.html' title='Natal'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-2425715899789675334</id><published>2009-05-14T11:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:26:03.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O que é a vida</title><content type='html'>A vida é um grave acidente de onde ninguém sairá vivo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-2425715899789675334?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/2425715899789675334/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-que-e-vida.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2425715899789675334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2425715899789675334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-que-e-vida.html' title='O que é a vida'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-6462998357609056983</id><published>2009-05-14T11:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T17:26:32.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tudo seria muito simples</title><content type='html'>Tudo seria muito simples se as pessoa não fossem egoístas.&lt;br /&gt;Sempre querem tudo pra elas. É meu carro, minha casa minha vida, meu marido, minha mulher, meu amor, meu emprego, minha escola, minha amiga, meu amigo, minha namorada, meu namorado, meu sonho, minha alma.&lt;br /&gt;Vamos dividir as coisas e será bem mais &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tranquilo&lt;/span&gt; quando perdermos algo, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;por que&lt;/span&gt; nada é de ninguém somos todos passageiros deste o&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nibus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; chamado vida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-6462998357609056983?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/6462998357609056983/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/tudo-seria-muito-simples.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/6462998357609056983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/6462998357609056983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/tudo-seria-muito-simples.html' title='Tudo seria muito simples'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-3475916295430646636</id><published>2009-05-14T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T17:25:56.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Viver é simples.</title><content type='html'>Comece não fazendo nada nem &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;planejando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; nada.&lt;br /&gt;Depois vai levando tudo na manha.&lt;br /&gt;Quando tiver tudo bem relaxe.&lt;br /&gt;Quando tiver tudo mal, espere, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;por que&lt;/span&gt; todo dia ruim vem precedido de outro pior, mas um dia isso passa, se tem uma coisa que aprendi foi que por pior que as coisas &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pareçam&lt;/span&gt; ser elas passam e se &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;você&lt;/span&gt; sobreviver tudo se acalma.&lt;br /&gt;Então viva e deixe as coisas acontecerem aos poucos.&lt;br /&gt;Sonhe, sonhe muito vá atrás do seu desejo, mas nunca sacrifique sua &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tranquilidade&lt;/span&gt; por um sonho &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;por que&lt;/span&gt; depois dele realizado sempre vem a decepção, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;por que&lt;/span&gt; nada satisfaz o ser humano &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;por que&lt;/span&gt; o que todos querem é uma coisa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;abstrata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; que se chama felicidade e isso só pode ser alcançado no fim quando não temos mais tempo pra curtir e ai já era.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-3475916295430646636?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/3475916295430646636/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/viver-e-simples.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/3475916295430646636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/3475916295430646636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/viver-e-simples.html' title='Viver é simples.'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-7451222866423378693</id><published>2009-05-14T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T17:25:22.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quem é deus</title><content type='html'>Será um cara bom ou mal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Por que&lt;/span&gt; promete o paraíso depois de morto e deixa morrer de fome crianças na &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;África&lt;/span&gt; e Brasil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Por que&lt;/span&gt; ele não se &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;mexe&lt;/span&gt; pra acabar com a prostituição infantil, mas promete curar a cegueira de um ex traficante&lt;br /&gt;Onde estava &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Deus&lt;/span&gt;na segunda guerra mundial que deixou seu povo ser massacrado pelos nazistas&lt;br /&gt;Porque ele não aparece no natal nas favelas&lt;br /&gt;Porque ele não aparece nas prisões e liberta todos os maus.&lt;br /&gt;Onde estava &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Deus&lt;/span&gt; quando perdi minha ilusão&lt;br /&gt;Como pessoas como &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Edir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Macedo comanda a maior igreja evangélica do mundo e &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Deus&lt;/span&gt; não faz nada?&lt;br /&gt;Olha &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Deus&lt;/span&gt; é melhor aparecer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;por que&lt;/span&gt; senão corre o risco de ser esquecido, por inércia e falta de zelo com sua criação.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-7451222866423378693?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/7451222866423378693/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/quem-e-deus.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/7451222866423378693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/7451222866423378693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/quem-e-deus.html' title='Quem é deus'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-6896410631624478896</id><published>2009-05-14T11:21:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:22:28.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quanta saudade!</title><content type='html'>Era tão bom.&lt;br /&gt;Não precisava pensar no futuro, nem na conta pra pagar.&lt;br /&gt;Era tão bom não tinha que ninguém agradar.&lt;br /&gt;Era tão bom podia chorar.&lt;br /&gt;Era tão bom não sabia o que era amar.&lt;br /&gt;Se pudesse voltar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Faria&lt;/span&gt; tudo de novo e viveria cada segundo como se fosse o ultimo, pois pra minha vida fui sim o ultimo.&lt;br /&gt;Quando se cresce perde a ternura, perde a verdadeira fé.&lt;br /&gt;Não sei &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;o que é&lt;/span&gt; ter fé pois fui iludido por falsos deuses  e falsos profetas que me mostraram um paraíso maravilhoso e disseram que não era para mim.&lt;br /&gt;Agora vivo sem fé e sem ilusão.&lt;br /&gt;Melhor que isso seria viver na solidão.&lt;br /&gt;Era tão bom procissão, missa e quaresma.&lt;br /&gt;Agora tudo não passa de lembrança e desconfiança.&lt;br /&gt;Quem sabe um dia tenha de volta tudo que perdi quando cresci.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-6896410631624478896?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/6896410631624478896/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/quanta-saudade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/6896410631624478896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/6896410631624478896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/quanta-saudade.html' title='Quanta saudade!'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-1682587673012963257</id><published>2009-05-14T11:21:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T17:24:40.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A humilhação</title><content type='html'>A humilhação é algo terrível, dói como ponta de lança, derruba como bola de &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;boliche&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; e mata como veneno de cobra&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-1682587673012963257?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/1682587673012963257/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/humilhacao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/1682587673012963257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/1682587673012963257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/humilhacao.html' title='A humilhação'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-1485331347783004424</id><published>2009-05-14T11:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:21:26.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A montanha</title><content type='html'>A montanha é mágica.&lt;br /&gt;É lá que dorme o vento.&lt;br /&gt;E nela que mora a nuvem.É na montanha que vive o imaginário.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-1485331347783004424?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/1485331347783004424/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/montanha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/1485331347783004424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/1485331347783004424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/montanha.html' title='A montanha'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-3498727630480327511</id><published>2009-05-14T11:20:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:21:08.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De que é feito o mundo</title><content type='html'>De que é feito o mundo?&lt;br /&gt;Será que é de queijo?&lt;br /&gt;Será que é de beijo?&lt;br /&gt;De que é feito o mundo?&lt;br /&gt;Será que é de mel?&lt;br /&gt;Será que é de céu?&lt;br /&gt;De que é feito o mundo?&lt;br /&gt;Será que é de flor?&lt;br /&gt;Será que é de amor?&lt;br /&gt;O mundo é feito de sonhos!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-3498727630480327511?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/3498727630480327511/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/de-que-e-feito-o-mundo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/3498727630480327511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/3498727630480327511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/de-que-e-feito-o-mundo.html' title='De que é feito o mundo'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-3007206260013367145</id><published>2009-05-14T11:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:20:48.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Natureza</title><content type='html'>A Natureza é quem decide quem nasce quem vive e quem morre, portanto só através da natureza se chega a Deus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-3007206260013367145?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/3007206260013367145/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/natureza.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/3007206260013367145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/3007206260013367145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/natureza.html' title='A Natureza'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-8851860480392309913</id><published>2009-05-14T11:19:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T17:23:57.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Por que</title><content type='html'>Por que fazer de tudo um cavalo de batalha, quando as verdadeiras batalhas são os desafios de viver?&lt;br /&gt;Por que colocar diante de tudo o orgulho e o preconceito, quando na verdade o que importa é o &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;caráter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; e os sentimentos?&lt;br /&gt;Por que impor condições e marcar datas se não sabemos o que realmente queremos e se poderemos viver pra cumprir?&lt;br /&gt;Por que falar duro e fazer ameaças se no fundo queremos abraçar e fazer carinho?&lt;br /&gt;Por que desistir de tudo e por um ponto final se na verdade queremos uma vírgula pra respirar e recomeçar?&lt;br /&gt;As respostas não são fáceis de encontrar, porque é muito mais fácil perguntar, questionar e acusar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-8851860480392309913?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/8851860480392309913/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/por-que.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/8851860480392309913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/8851860480392309913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/por-que.html' title='Por que'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-6868505276672149419</id><published>2009-05-14T11:19:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:19:50.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O trabalho</title><content type='html'>O trabalho enaltece o homem.&lt;br /&gt;O chefe aborrece o homem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-6868505276672149419?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/6868505276672149419/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-trabalho.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/6868505276672149419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/6868505276672149419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-trabalho.html' title='O trabalho'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-4191352401167566044</id><published>2009-05-14T11:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:19:31.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paternidade</title><content type='html'>A paternidade é uma dádiva.&lt;br /&gt;Ser pai é como criar uma obra prima e contemplá-la eternamente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-4191352401167566044?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/4191352401167566044/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/paternidade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/4191352401167566044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/4191352401167566044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/paternidade.html' title='Paternidade'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-5584856011099546635</id><published>2009-05-14T11:17:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:19:01.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O Choro do canário</title><content type='html'>Ouvi um pássaro cantar.&lt;br /&gt;Um som fininho um lamentar.&lt;br /&gt;Preso na gaiola sem poder voar.&lt;br /&gt;Bem &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;amarelinho&lt;/span&gt;, um canário.&lt;br /&gt;Seria bonito se não fosse o cenário.&lt;br /&gt;Esta gaiola, uma prisão.&lt;br /&gt;E seu canto me encheu de emoção.&lt;br /&gt;Quem me dera fosse meu.&lt;br /&gt;Pro poder soltar e ver o &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;vôo&lt;/span&gt; seu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-5584856011099546635?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/5584856011099546635/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-choro-do-canario.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/5584856011099546635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/5584856011099546635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-choro-do-canario.html' title='O Choro do canário'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-2566150305595904248</id><published>2009-05-14T11:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:17:51.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A chuva</title><content type='html'>A chuva é o choro de Deus.&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre de tristeza, mas sim de emoção.&lt;br /&gt;Por ver andando sua linda criação.&lt;br /&gt;O Homem é divino e a chuva e esplendorosa.&lt;br /&gt;Que choro bom, quem coisa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;gostosa&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-2566150305595904248?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/2566150305595904248/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/chuva.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2566150305595904248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2566150305595904248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/chuva.html' title='A chuva'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-4169674800200696240</id><published>2009-05-14T11:15:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:15:47.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minha infância</title><content type='html'>Ser criança é muito bom.&lt;br /&gt;Tem manga, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;jabuticaba&lt;/span&gt; e bombom.&lt;br /&gt;Tem pipoca e desenho.&lt;br /&gt;Tem vovó fazendo doce com empenho.&lt;br /&gt;Tem &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;colinho&lt;/span&gt; da mamãe e &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bronca&lt;/span&gt; do papai.&lt;br /&gt;Que saudade da infância, ai ai!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-4169674800200696240?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/4169674800200696240/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/minha-infancia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/4169674800200696240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/4169674800200696240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/minha-infancia.html' title='Minha infância'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-2348801376412247434</id><published>2009-05-14T11:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:15:17.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amar ou sofrer?</title><content type='html'>Amar é sofrer.&lt;br /&gt;Esperar em vão pelo sorriso, quando se precisa.&lt;br /&gt;É chorar sozinho quando se decepciona.&lt;br /&gt;Amar é sofrer a desilusão e querer morrer na solidão.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-2348801376412247434?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/2348801376412247434/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/amar-ou-sofrer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2348801376412247434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2348801376412247434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/amar-ou-sofrer.html' title='Amar ou sofrer?'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-5446104235451912523</id><published>2009-05-14T11:14:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:14:58.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Que amor é esse</title><content type='html'>Que amor é esse que me queima por dentro?&lt;br /&gt;Que amor é esse que me machuca o peito?&lt;br /&gt;Que amor é esse que foge quando chego?&lt;br /&gt;Que amor é esse que teima em não retribuir?&lt;br /&gt;Acho que amor assim é pra vida toda&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-5446104235451912523?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/5446104235451912523/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/que-amor-e-esse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/5446104235451912523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/5446104235451912523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/que-amor-e-esse.html' title='Que amor é esse'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-1635572351027139927</id><published>2009-05-14T11:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:14:37.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aquela mulher</title><content type='html'>Quando ela aparece você sabe que é ela.&lt;br /&gt;Ela é linda.&lt;br /&gt;Ela é sorridente.&lt;br /&gt;Ela é inteligente.&lt;br /&gt;Ela é formosa.&lt;br /&gt;Só de ver o coração dispara.&lt;br /&gt;O frio na barriga aparece.&lt;br /&gt;É ela, aquela mulher, a mulher da sua vida&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-1635572351027139927?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/1635572351027139927/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/aquela-mulher.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/1635572351027139927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/1635572351027139927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/aquela-mulher.html' title='Aquela mulher'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-6321103067478441064</id><published>2009-05-14T11:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:13:43.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tempo livre</title><content type='html'>O tempo é livre porque a vida é livre.&lt;br /&gt;Não &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;há&lt;/span&gt; desperdício de nem um segundo quando tudo que se faz é com prazer.&lt;br /&gt;Então todo tempo é livre dependendo de como se vê.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-6321103067478441064?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/6321103067478441064/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/tempo-livre.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/6321103067478441064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/6321103067478441064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/tempo-livre.html' title='Tempo livre'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-2506943019861293920</id><published>2009-05-14T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T11:11:50.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As vezes da vontade de parar</title><content type='html'>Tem dias que nos sentimos pequenos, fracos, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cansados&lt;/span&gt;. Dias tristes, mas sem motivo aparente, falta vontade, ânimo. Em dias assim seria melhor nem nascer, mas estou aqui então preciso continuar. porque será que ficamos desanimados, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sonolentos&lt;/span&gt; e com vontade de parar?&lt;br /&gt;Confesso que não quero mais nada nesses dias, não quero estudar, nem comprar carro casa, nem viajar, nem trabalhar eu quero.&lt;br /&gt;Más isso passa é só esperar a noite chegar, o sono tomar seu corpo e todos os pensamentos desaparecem, no fim, amanhã é um novo dia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-2506943019861293920?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/2506943019861293920/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/as-vezes-da-vontade-de-parar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2506943019861293920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2506943019861293920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/05/as-vezes-da-vontade-de-parar.html' title='As vezes da vontade de parar'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-6634265821973072363</id><published>2009-04-24T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T13:36:05.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ser Humano é ser triste</title><content type='html'>Quem nesta vida nunca se sentiu pequeno diante de uma situação, impotente, inválido, sozinho?&lt;br /&gt;Quando a dor chega o sofrimento aperta o peito, descobrimos que estamos realmente sozinhos e que por mais que gritemos ninguém vem nos socorrer.&lt;br /&gt;Quando você vê alguém sofrendo tem vontade de ajudar, mas nada pode ser feito, pois sofrimento não se cura com gestos ou palavras só o tempo pode curar uma dor ou uma perda.&lt;br /&gt;Quando pedimos a Deus que nos ajude já sabemos a resposta, mas pedimos assim mesmo, pois no auge da dor fazemos de tudo pra melhorar, mas nunca somos respondidos, estamos sempre sozinhos na escuridão.&lt;br /&gt;Espere até o dia final de sua vida e vai descobrir da pior maneira possível que você está sozinho, pois quando se morre, se morre sozinho. &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-6634265821973072363?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/6634265821973072363/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/ser-humano-e-ser-triste.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/6634265821973072363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/6634265821973072363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/ser-humano-e-ser-triste.html' title='Ser Humano é ser triste'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-7030397932341669202</id><published>2009-04-24T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T17:20:33.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Como ser livre</title><content type='html'>A liberdade é um tema antigo, que já aparece na bíblia &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;quan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;do os Hebreus querem fugir do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Egito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div&gt;Ta no lema da revolução francesa, na bandeira de Minas Gerais, más liberdade é só um ideal, pois quando nos libertamos de um senhor nos prendemos a outro muito pior e mais malvado que nos chicoteia e nos castiga cada dia mais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quer ser livre então morra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-7030397932341669202?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/7030397932341669202/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/como-ser-livre.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/7030397932341669202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/7030397932341669202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/como-ser-livre.html' title='Como ser livre'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-3289974400191539977</id><published>2009-04-24T17:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T13:36:46.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sigmund Freud</title><content type='html'>Há se Freud estivesse vivo?&lt;br /&gt;Queria ver ele explicar a maldade impregnada na alma humana, queria ver ele explicar o egoísmo a hipocrisia e o desprezo pelo próximo.&lt;br /&gt;Há se Freud estivesse vivo, talvez morresse horrorizado, com tanta falsidade e tanta imoralidade, não sexual, mas imoralidade ética.&lt;br /&gt;Se ele estivesse por aqui, certamente mudaria seus pensamentos e suas idéias sobre o ser humano.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-3289974400191539977?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/3289974400191539977/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/sigmund-freud.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/3289974400191539977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/3289974400191539977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/sigmund-freud.html' title='Sigmund Freud'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-5073714113445475944</id><published>2009-04-24T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T17:45:04.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tirar o máximo e descartar</title><content type='html'>As relações hoje em dia são de puro interesse. ninguém se aproxima do outro para ser amigo, ou ajudar, só se interessam em levar vantagem. Mesmo quando ajudam pensam em cobrar depois ou aparecer pra alguém.&lt;div&gt;Quando se consegue alguém mais frágil é a hora de tirar o máximo e depois descartar. porque pessoas fracas dão trabalho e nem sempre tem muito a oferecer. O que importa é o lucro, seja financeiro, afetivo ou de status social.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Queria ser um cão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-5073714113445475944?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/5073714113445475944/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/tirar-o-maximo-e-descartar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/5073714113445475944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/5073714113445475944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/tirar-o-maximo-e-descartar.html' title='Tirar o máximo e descartar'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-2790556695583879613</id><published>2009-04-24T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T13:40:02.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hipocrisia</title><content type='html'>Como seria bom se as pessoas fossem sinceras e falassem o que realmente pensam, não se escondessem atrás de religião ou de falso moralismo. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ninguém&lt;/span&gt; nesse mundo tem coragem de falar a verdade pois querem ser politicamente &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;corretos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, querem agradar mesmo que para isso precisem mentir. Os interesses pessoais falam mais alto do que a ética, pra que desagradar um aliado, falo o que ele quer ouvir, ajo como se fosse seu amigo e quando não me servir &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;descarto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; como papel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;higiénico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;div&gt;É! Realmente as pessoa precisam conviver com cães.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-2790556695583879613?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/2790556695583879613/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/hipocrisia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2790556695583879613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/2790556695583879613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/hipocrisia.html' title='Hipocrisia'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-3128501583556662911</id><published>2009-04-24T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T17:35:29.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Egoísmo e amor</title><content type='html'>Quem sabe o que é amor e o que é egoísmo?&lt;div&gt;muitos dizem amar, mas na verdade o que sentem é somente vontade de satisfazer suas necessidades, seja de compania, seja de controle de outra pessoa. O ser humano tem necessidade de mandar e controlar os outros. Na verdade o que sentem é apenas egoísmo, porque sempre, no fim o que conta é como vou ficar depois disso?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Você que diz amar, já abriu mão de alguma coisa realmente importante por alguém? Já perdoou um erro grave? Já  entendeu a dor de quem você ama?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Na verdade amor só de mãe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-3128501583556662911?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/3128501583556662911/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/egoismo-e-amor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/3128501583556662911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/3128501583556662911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/04/egoismo-e-amor.html' title='Egoísmo e amor'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2324342309243038394.post-8487176617631893993</id><published>2009-03-21T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T11:40:47.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sobre o que falo</title><content type='html'>Não sei sobre o que falo, não sei sobre o que penso, só sei que estou vivo e a cada segundo tenho pensamentos e ideias que são esquecidos ou guardados.&lt;div&gt;Quero expor o que penso para que nada se perca no fundo do baú da minha mente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2324342309243038394-8487176617631893993?l=falodoquesou.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/feeds/8487176617631893993/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/03/sobre-o-que-falo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/8487176617631893993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2324342309243038394/posts/default/8487176617631893993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://falodoquesou.blogspot.com/2009/03/sobre-o-que-falo.html' title='Sobre o que falo'/><author><name>Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13300697063133456382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
