<?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-38037745</id><updated>2011-12-25T19:39:02.827-02:00</updated><category term='strike'/><category term='larissa'/><category term='eu te amo'/><category term='fresno'/><category term='dia verde'/><category term='asteriscooslibertinosponto'/><category term='plain with t&apos;s'/><category term='nm - 390'/><category term='cartão amarelo'/><category term='música'/><category term='Vinícius de Moraes'/><category term='amo (l)'/><category term='pra mim'/><category term='please'/><category term='112'/><category term='por mim'/><category term='eu'/><category term='por Ron'/><category term='asteriscoosusadosponto'/><category term='yeah'/><category term='brinde'/><category term='from seguindoestrelas.tumblr (gre)'/><category term='fullheart'/><category term='Antonio Prata'/><category term='modificações'/><category term='Young'/><category term='a song that no one sings'/><category term='CFA'/><category term='fresno ; emo.'/><category term='eclipse'/><category term='abril como conseqüência áries.'/><category term='hold me close'/><category term='gelada noite inspiradora de sexta'/><category term='J.'/><category term='(l)'/><category term='melhoramiga'/><category term='ex-cabelo comprido'/><category term='mcfly'/><category term='Caio F. Abreu'/><category term='blunt'/><category term='me'/><category term='..that I&apos;ve got to keep my feet on the ground'/><category term='plus 44'/><category term='sugarcult'/><category term='counting crows'/><category term='sabe o que é decepção'/><category term='josbros'/><category term='page 111'/><category term='foto já postada ? não sei..'/><category term='apaixonada ? :$'/><category term='memory'/><category term='raimundos'/><category term='eu mesma e meu blog'/><category term='Avril Lavigne'/><category term='pro ron'/><category term='Marlena de Blasi'/><category term='glória'/><category term='tequila baby'/><category term='the beach boys'/><category term='F.'/><category term='Plum Sykes'/><category term='Rachel Vincent'/><category term='blue october'/><category term='music and lyrics'/><category term='óoculos'/><category term='my only one'/><category term='Greta Benitez'/><category term='Caio F.'/><category term='peter parker'/><category term='Liliane Prata'/><title type='text'>close your eyes. clear your heart</title><subtitle type='html'>cut the cord</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>317</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6164014939696921261</id><published>2011-12-25T19:37:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-25T19:39:02.832-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;Retrospectiva dos Biólogos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;Esse ano eu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;(  ) Virei uma noite estudando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;(x) Escrevi um artigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;(x) Escrevi relatórios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;(x) Aprendi muito.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Não aprendi nada.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Fiquei no vadião até o final.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Briguei com com o professor/orientador.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Presenteei o professor/orientador.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Bebi com o professor/orientador.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Fui pra campo.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Quebrei algo no laboratório.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Roubei algo do laboratório.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Comi no laboratório.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Pipetei com a boca.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Tirei 10.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Levei bomba.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Atrasei livros na biblioteca.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Emprestei livros e não li nenhum.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Deixei de lanchar pra bater xerox.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Bati xerox e não li.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Perdi aula pra jogar bola.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Perdi aula pra ir pro vadião.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Perdi aula pra ficar no estágio.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Fui pra aula bêbado.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Me atrasei por causa do RU.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Participei de palestras/simpósios/&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;congressos/cursos.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Fiz um trabalho incrível.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Deixei pra fazer trabalho um dia antes.&lt;br /&gt;(  ) Fiquei no Facebook durante a aula.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Usei a Wikipédia.&lt;br /&gt;(x) Posso dizer que tudo valeu muito a pena.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-6164014939696921261?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6164014939696921261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6164014939696921261&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6164014939696921261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6164014939696921261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/12/retrospectiva-dos-biologos-esse-ano-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-1673071437859909413</id><published>2011-11-28T21:35:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T21:35:26.062-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;watch you mouth. hold your tongue boy. because you're running out of breath, running out of time. keep on talking, just keep on rambling. you've got your mouth full. listen here's the pleasant part: you and I, we fell apart. why can't you make up your mind ? shut your mouth, burn your bridges. throw your words like an attack and stab me in the... wait a second, wait a second. what's that I just heard ? never mind it's obviously worthless. now you're standing on your soapbox, yelling from the rooftops. everything you say is a lie. listen, here's the clever one: who speaks before his thoughts are done. watch your mouth. hold your tongue. &lt;i&gt;somethings are better left unsaid&lt;/i&gt;. now I hope you're pleased, you let your pride stand tall, it danced within your words right before you fall. why don't you say that to my face ? I've had ripped down (torn down) so many things. wvery thing you, every time you, every word you say... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;if I told you this was killing me, would you stop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-1673071437859909413?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/1673071437859909413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=1673071437859909413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1673071437859909413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1673071437859909413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/11/watch-you-mouth_28.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6080484999134073120</id><published>2011-11-19T13:36:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T13:53:02.277-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;ESTE ANO :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;- Fez um novo amigo: sim, três grandes amigos na faculdade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;- Apaixonou-se: mais do que já estava haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;- Riu até chorar: yep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;- Conheceu alguém que te mudou: sim, muitos bons exemplos pra seguir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Descobriu quem eram seus verdadeiros amigos: é bom perceber que a amizade não acaba pela falta de tempo, outros compromissos e essas coisas clichês.&lt;br /&gt;- Descobriu alguém que falava mal de você: como se eu me importasse...&lt;br /&gt;- Beijou alguém da sua lista de amigos do Facebook: todos os dias hahah meu namorado lindo&lt;br /&gt;- Quantos pessoas da sua lista de amigos você conhece na vida real: quase todos&lt;br /&gt;- Quantos filhos você quer ter: um ou dois&lt;br /&gt;- Tem algum animal de estimação: se cada inseto que eu peguei esse semestre contar, tenho muitos no isopor e nos potes com alcoól hahhah&lt;br /&gt;- A que horas acordaste hoje: 9:21&lt;br /&gt;- O que estava fazendo á meia-noite da noite passada: lendo fanfics. pra variar&lt;br /&gt;- Qual foi a ultima vez que viu sua mãe: uns 20 minutos atrás&lt;br /&gt;- O que esta ouvindo agora: para-para-paradise&lt;br /&gt;- Conhece alguém que tem nome estranho: simmmmmmmm&lt;br /&gt;- Quem esta te irritando neste exato momento: botânica&lt;br /&gt;- Web page mais visitada: facebook e fanfiction.net&lt;br /&gt;- Apelido: djé e jé&lt;br /&gt;- Idade: 19&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-6080484999134073120?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6080484999134073120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6080484999134073120&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6080484999134073120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6080484999134073120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/11/este-ano-fez-um-novo-amigo-sim-tres.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6041886212181905957</id><published>2011-10-31T23:39:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-10-31T23:43:18.810-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;Music, biology, stars, smiles, movies, being close, tea, books, clouds, public displays of affection, pictures, English, parks, moon, London, rain, bubble gum, rock, lolinhos, sunset, thriller, cream cheese, dreams, colors, vampires, humor, Whitlock, frogs, letters, games, coats, purple, Sudoku, queen, baloons, fairy tales, cutouts, intelligence, nights, mirrors, strawberry, fun, green, strippers, shine, cars, sentences, faces-and-mouths, time, peanut butter, soulmates never die, trips, trios, hugs, protection, melody, 4-8-15-16-23-42, boxes, Salvatore bad brother, choices, reasons, changes, spring, snow, brigadeiro, ice cream, sky, Coben, every minute, riddle, memories, concerts, sheeps, bad dolls, screaming, discs, windows, magazines, smells, rabbits, inside, buttons, fiction, all star, history, nicknames,  draws, loneliness, Rob Wilkins, endings.&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/38037745-6041886212181905957?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6041886212181905957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6041886212181905957&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6041886212181905957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6041886212181905957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/10/me.html' title='Me.'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-4328534178052298173</id><published>2011-07-27T21:23:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T21:39:21.534-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dia verde'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;I'm the son of rage and love, the Jesus of suburbia, f&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;rom the bible of "none of the above". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;on a steady diet of soda pop and Ritalin. no one ever died for my sins in hell, as far as I can tell. at least the ones I got away with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;and there's nothing wrong with me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;, this is how I'm supposed to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;. in a land of make believe who don't believe in me. to fall in love and fall in debt to alcohol and cigaretts and Mary Jane to keep me insane, doing someone else's cocain. at the center of the eart in the parking lot. the motto was just a lie. it says &lt;i&gt;"home is where your heart is" but what a shame&lt;/i&gt; cause everyone's heart doesn't beat the same. it's beating out of time. city of the dead. at the end of another lost highway. signs misleading to nowhere. city of the damned. lost children with dirty faces today.&lt;b&gt; no one really seems to care.&lt;/b&gt; I read the graffiti in the bathroom stall, like the holy scriptures in a shopping mall. and so it seemed to confess. it didn't say much bit it only confirmed that the center of the eath is the end of the world and I could really care less. I don't care if you don't care.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;everyone is so full of shit. born and raised by hypocrites.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;hearts recycled but never saved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt; from the cradle to the grave. we are the kids of war and peace. from Anaheim to the Middle East. we are the stories and disciples of the Jesus of suburbia. land of make believe and it don't believe in me. and I don't belive. dearly beloved are you listening ? I can't remember a word that you were saying. are we demented or am I desturbed ? the space that's in between insace and insecure. oh therapy, can you please fill the void ? am I retarded or am I just overjoyed ? nobody's perfect and I stand accused for lack of a better word and that's my best excuse. to live and not to breathe is to die in tragedy. to run away to find what you believe. &lt;b&gt;and I leave behind this hurricane of fucking lies&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;. I lost my faith to this, this town that don't exist. so I run away to the light of masochist. and I leave behing this hurricane of fucking lies.&lt;b&gt; and I walked this line a million and one fucking times.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;but not this time&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt; I don't feel any shame, I wont apologize when there ain't nowhere you can go. running away from pain when you've been victimized. &lt;i&gt;tales from another broken home&lt;/i&gt;. you're leaving home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-4328534178052298173?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/4328534178052298173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=4328534178052298173&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4328534178052298173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4328534178052298173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/07/im-son-of-rage-and-love-jesus-of.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-3133465949703284509</id><published>2011-07-17T02:10:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-17T02:16:40.807-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;te vejo errando e isso não é pecado, exceto quando faz outra pessoa sangrar. te vejo sonhando e isso dá medo. perdido num mundo que não dá pra entrar. você está saindo da minha vida e parece que vai demorar. se não souber voltar ao menos mande notícias. cê acha que eu sou louca, mas tudo vai se encaixar. você tá sempre indo e vindo, tudo bem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-size: 13px; "&gt;dessa vez eu já vesti minha armadura&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; e mesmo que nada funcione eu estarei de pé, de queixo erguido. depois você me vê vermelha e acha graça mas eu não ficaria bem na sua estante. tô aproveitando cada segundo antes que isso aqui vire uma tragédia. e &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-size: 13px; "&gt;não adianta nem me procurar em outros timbres e outros risos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;, eu estava aqui o tempo todo, só você não viu. só por hoje eu não quero mais te ver. só por hoje não vou tomar minha dose de você. cansei de chorar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;feridas que não se fecham, não se curam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;. e essa abstinência uma hora vai passar....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-3133465949703284509?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/3133465949703284509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=3133465949703284509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3133465949703284509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3133465949703284509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/07/te-vejo-errando-e-isso-nao-e-pecado.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6252465412452210802</id><published>2011-07-14T12:32:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T12:39:23.323-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sugarcult'/><title type='text'>I changed my name</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;div style="overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I couldn't sleep last night, my ears were ringing in my head. I may be better off here dead. running on empty once again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;too tired for tears I dread.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; sink deed into those magic dreams while I blast off in my bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;div style="overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;three hours later and I'm staring at the ceiling still. xanex does nothing more but calm the sleeping thrill. turning the pillows round and round to find the cold spot for my head. ah, bless my only friend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;div style="overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;I feel my body's lost control, my knees get weak as I drift away. and it gets darker and darker. dreaming's where I am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;div style="overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-bottom: 3px; height: 38px; "&gt;and I threw my whole night down the drain. you know cause everyone says that I'm not the same since I changed my name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-6252465412452210802?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6252465412452210802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6252465412452210802&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6252465412452210802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6252465412452210802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-changed-my-name.html' title='I changed my name'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-1364304128461866997</id><published>2011-07-13T13:03:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T14:40:34.951-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me entristece:&lt;/b&gt; you're beautiful - james blunt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz chorar: &lt;/b&gt;if I die young - the band perry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me alegra:&lt;/b&gt; consoler of the lonely - the raconteurs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Diz muito de mim:&lt;/b&gt; hate me - blue october&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz lembrar de um lugar:&lt;/b&gt; fighting - yellowcard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz ponderar a vida: &lt;/b&gt;running up that hill - placebo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não gostaria de ouvir de novo:&lt;/b&gt; friday - rebecca black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tocaria no meu casamento:&lt;/b&gt; unforgiven III - metallica&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tocaria no meu funeral: &lt;/b&gt;french kiss off - the juliana theory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Faz meus amigos lembrarem de mim:&lt;/b&gt; -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gostava, mas agora não mais:&lt;/b&gt; um pouco mais - nxzero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Admito que eu gosto: &lt;/b&gt;what's my name - rihanna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz lembrar minha infância: &lt;/b&gt;o astronauta de mármore - nenhum de nós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Parece com a minha adolescência: &lt;/b&gt;star girl - mcfly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Muitas pessoas gostam, mas eu não:&lt;/b&gt; judas - lady gaga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gosto da letra: &lt;/b&gt;emergency - paramore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Amo o clipe e a letra:&lt;/b&gt; empty with you - the used&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;É melhor quando tocada no carro:&lt;/b&gt; waking up in vegas - katy perry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gostaria de acordar:&lt;/b&gt; good vibrations - beach boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gostaria de dormir:&lt;/b&gt; porcelain - yeah yeah yeahs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gosto, meus pais também:&lt;/b&gt; have a nice day - bon jovi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tocaria na minha festa: &lt;/b&gt;when did your heart go missing ? - rooney&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;É bem melhor quando está acompanhado:&lt;/b&gt; mr brightside - the killers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tema de um dos meus filmes favoritos:&lt;/b&gt; where is my mind - pixies / the blower's daughter - damien rice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz pensar no por do sol:&lt;/b&gt; congratulations - blue october&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz pensar nos dias nublados:&lt;/b&gt; there is - box car racer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz pensar na noite:&lt;/b&gt; I changed my name - sugarcult&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz pensar em sexo:&lt;/b&gt; I caught fire - the used&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz querer estar sozinha:&lt;/b&gt; heartless - the fray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz sorrir:&lt;/b&gt; bitch - plastiscines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz querer dançar: &lt;/b&gt;nanana - my chemical romance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me faz rir:&lt;/b&gt; don't trust me - 3OH!3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não é do meu gênero mas eu gosto: &lt;/b&gt;as she's walking away - zac brown band&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Faz lembrar alguém que eu quero/queria:&lt;/b&gt; friends don't let friends dial drunk - plain white t's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Posso cantar bem:&lt;/b&gt; speechless - lady gaga hahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Para se cantar bêbado:&lt;/b&gt; rockstar - nickelback&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Para se dançar bêbado:&lt;/b&gt; enjoy the silence - anberlin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Queria ter a voz de:&lt;/b&gt; katy perry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Queria ter o talento de:&lt;/b&gt; bert mccracken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-1364304128461866997?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/1364304128461866997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=1364304128461866997&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1364304128461866997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1364304128461866997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/07/me-entristece-youre-beautiful-james.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-3531992196319680689</id><published>2011-07-11T12:57:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T13:06:56.048-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blunt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='J.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JGrf9xRbvbg/ThsfZkPeRQI/AAAAAAAABU0/cFvRWYF2Qfw/s320/beauty.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 174px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628126683415332098" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B2HoaWW_xyU/Thsfb1cDLeI/AAAAAAAABU8/Ac6GrhB3pHc/s320/beauty2.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 173px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628126722391223778" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;I saw an angel of that I'm sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;div style="overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;but it's time to face the truth, I will never be with you.&lt;/div&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/38037745-3531992196319680689?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/3531992196319680689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=3531992196319680689&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3531992196319680689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3531992196319680689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-saw-angel-of-that-im-sure.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JGrf9xRbvbg/ThsfZkPeRQI/AAAAAAAABU0/cFvRWYF2Qfw/s72-c/beauty.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6386904166360862299</id><published>2011-07-07T22:35:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T22:36:05.672-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;Se eu não podia partilhar as coisas boas da minha vida com a pessoa que eu considerava a mais importante no mundo, era quase como se elas nunca tivessem acontecido."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-6386904166360862299?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6386904166360862299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6386904166360862299&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6386904166360862299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6386904166360862299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/07/se-eu-nao-podia-partilhar-as-coisas.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7851354379113700998</id><published>2011-07-05T21:47:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T21:53:39.667-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlena de Blasi'/><title type='text'>Isso já aconteceu com você?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;"(...)&lt;/span&gt; abri as comportas do tipo de lembrança que parece um anseio melancólico por algo perdido ou por algo que nunca existiu. Acho que a maioria de nós tem isso, esse hábito potencialmente destrutivo de manter registros mentais que se acumulam, se distorcem, depois se quebram e se espalham até os confins mais distantes da razão e da consciência. O que fazemos é acumular dor, colecioná-la como peças de vidro vermelho. Nós a exibimos, a empilhamos. Até que ela se torna uma montanha na qual podemos subir, esperando e exigindo empatia e salvação. "Ei, está vendo isto aqui? Está vendo como é grande minha dor?" Nós olhamos para as pilhas dos outros, as medimos e gritamos: "Minha dor é maior que a sua." &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;(...)".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;MIL DIAS EM VENEZA.&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/38037745-7851354379113700998?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7851354379113700998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7851354379113700998&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7851354379113700998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7851354379113700998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/07/isso-ja-aconteceu-com-voce.html' title='Isso já aconteceu com você?'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7714419217322202701</id><published>2011-07-05T16:40:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T16:43:49.716-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cartão amarelo'/><title type='text'>shadows and regrets</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;div style="overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;I feel let down. I see shadows of who we used to be when I drive so slow through this memory&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(163, 163, 163); overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-7714419217322202701?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7714419217322202701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7714419217322202701&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7714419217322202701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7714419217322202701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/07/shadows-and-regrets.html' title='shadows and regrets'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-3458023680331218782</id><published>2011-07-01T22:29:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T22:30:23.948-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;just feel so empty and I can't even explain why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-3458023680331218782?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/3458023680331218782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=3458023680331218782&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3458023680331218782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3458023680331218782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/07/just-feel-so-empty-and-i-cant-even.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6407169753834674637</id><published>2011-06-30T22:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T22:20:54.659-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(112, 128, 144); font-family: arial, helvetica, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;what would you think of me now ?&lt;br /&gt;(you are) so lucky, so &lt;i&gt;strong&lt;/i&gt;, so proud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-6407169753834674637?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6407169753834674637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6407169753834674637&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6407169753834674637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6407169753834674637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/06/what-would-you-think-of-me-now-you-are.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-4619336721962672289</id><published>2011-06-30T22:04:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T22:11:28.957-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blue october'/><title type='text'>hate me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(112, 128, 144); font-family: arial, helvetica, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;eu tenho que parar de pensar em você para eu não perder a minha cabeça. deixando cair pequenos pedaços de fita para lembrar que eu estou sozinha. passando filmes na minha cabeça que fazem com que um pornô se sinta bem. meu orgulho já se machucou, e o meu cérebro está com medo. tudo que eu quero de você é um pouco de paz. você nunca vai me ligar de novo ? e você nunca mais vai dizer que me ama só para jogar na minha cara ? e você nunca vai tentar falar comigo só porque fui eu que quis um tempo ? eu estou sóbrio agora por &lt;b&gt;três meses&lt;/b&gt; inteiros e é uma das coisas que você me ajudou. a única coisa que fazia a gente se separar é a única coisa que eu nunca mais quero chegar perto. e de um jeito maluco eu quero te agradecer por você ter segurado a minha cabeça até tarde da noite. &lt;i&gt;enquanto eu estava ocupada lutando contra mim mesma, você estava tentando parar a luta. você nunca duvidou das minhas opiniões estranhas em pensamentos como querer se suicidar ou ódio. você me fez me elogiar quando minha vida estava muito difícil de agüentar.&lt;/i&gt; "então eu vou viajar para bem longe pra você nunca mais pensar em mim e faça &lt;i&gt;qualquer coisa que precise&lt;/i&gt; no seu coração para me deixar para trás. e com um coração triste eu falo tchau para você e abano. chutando sombras na rua por todos os erros que eu cometi. e como um bebê eu nunca fui um homem. até que eu vi seus olhos verdes chorando e eu segurei seu rosto em minhas mãos. e então eu cai no chão gritando 'faça isso ir embora, só faça um sorriso voltar e brilhar como costumava ser'. e então ela sussurrou 'como você pôde fazer isso comigo ?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hate me today&lt;br /&gt;hate me tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;hate me for all the things I didn't do for you&lt;br /&gt;hate me in ways, yeah ways hard to swallow&lt;br /&gt;hate me so you can finally see what's good for you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-4619336721962672289?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/4619336721962672289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=4619336721962672289&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4619336721962672289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4619336721962672289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/06/hate-me.html' title='hate me'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-972071180335766810</id><published>2011-06-30T21:51:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T21:51:35.419-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(112, 128, 144); font-family: arial, helvetica, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;Foi para o decúbito dorsal, por dores, frios, calores, quiçá lágrimas, devolvido ao barro, entre o inefável e o infando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Demonstrando-o, amatemático, contrário ao público pensamento e à lógica, desde que Aristóteles a fundou. O que não era tão fácil como fritar almôndegas. Sem malícia, com paciência, sem insistência, principalmente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-972071180335766810?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/972071180335766810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=972071180335766810&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/972071180335766810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/972071180335766810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/06/foi-para-o-decubito-dorsal-por-dores.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-2080922497922485885</id><published>2011-06-30T21:49:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T21:49:56.391-03:00</updated><title type='text'>v.a.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(112, 128, 144); font-family: arial, helvetica, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;O que era amor, realmente? Flores, chocolates e poesia? Ou era algo mais? Era ser capaz de terminar as piadas de alguém? Era ter fé absoluta que alguém estava lá por você? Era conhecer alguém tão bem, a ponto de saber o motivo do outro fazer o que fazia e ainda &lt;i&gt;compartilhar as mesmas opiniões&lt;/i&gt;? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-2080922497922485885?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/2080922497922485885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=2080922497922485885&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2080922497922485885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2080922497922485885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/06/va.html' title='v.a.'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-5460118079171320733</id><published>2011-06-30T21:07:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T21:09:34.314-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;está ventando aqui fora, posso sentir meu rosto frio mas isto não representa muita coisa a ponto de me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;inspirar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;. eu poderia até forçar ser &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;depressiva, escrever sobre uma tristeza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt; que não vivo e chamar isso de "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;profundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;". quem sabe até ir bem mais longe e esquecer onde está minha &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;sinceridade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;, até que isto se torne algo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;espontâneo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;. mas não quero ser &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;irônica a toda hora nem vou fingir que eu sou &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;fria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;, e só consigo agir com a própria razão ou me expressar sempre com a velha fórmula das metáforas para que enxerguem em mim alguém "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;genial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;"... &lt;b&gt;"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-5460118079171320733?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/5460118079171320733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=5460118079171320733&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5460118079171320733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5460118079171320733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/06/esta-ventando-aqui-fora-posso-sentir.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-1929722438863259860</id><published>2011-05-10T00:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T00:08:00.585-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CdxACq7lojA/TcirxGrL6jI/AAAAAAAABUg/kqjN4q2O8o0/s1600/bert16.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CdxACq7lojA/TcirxGrL6jI/AAAAAAAABUg/kqjN4q2O8o0/s320/bert16.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604918596356270642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;my idol, my ispiration. my &lt;i&gt;hero&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-1929722438863259860?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/1929722438863259860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=1929722438863259860&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1929722438863259860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1929722438863259860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-idol-my-ispiration.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CdxACq7lojA/TcirxGrL6jI/AAAAAAAABUg/kqjN4q2O8o0/s72-c/bert16.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-3455506671839093721</id><published>2011-05-09T23:49:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T23:50:46.289-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cartão amarelo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;div style="overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;and I would rather be somewhere with better thoughts and warmer air. I'm tired of trying to be somebody different than me. I'm tired of &lt;i&gt;trying to shine it on when the lights go out tonight&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(163, 163, 163); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-3455506671839093721?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/3455506671839093721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=3455506671839093721&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3455506671839093721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3455506671839093721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/05/and-i-would-rather-be-somewhere-with.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6244166660593216616</id><published>2011-04-19T23:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T23:06:24.108-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rZXGbyOoGAY/Ta4_ln9PHzI/AAAAAAAABUY/kYT0awmBzwc/s1600/d.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rZXGbyOoGAY/Ta4_ln9PHzI/AAAAAAAABUY/kYT0awmBzwc/s320/d.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597481302481641266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-6244166660593216616?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6244166660593216616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6244166660593216616&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6244166660593216616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6244166660593216616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rZXGbyOoGAY/Ta4_ln9PHzI/AAAAAAAABUY/kYT0awmBzwc/s72-c/d.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-9015037370165196032</id><published>2011-04-18T09:20:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T09:20:39.796-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Caio F.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;i&gt;Eu tenho sonhos, mas não hoje. Feche a porta e apague a luz, por favor. – E se o telefone tocar diga que eu morri que estou mortinha da silva, estirada no chão da sala com o coração na mão. Diga que retirei meu coração com a mão – ele estava doendo demais.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-9015037370165196032?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/9015037370165196032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=9015037370165196032&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/9015037370165196032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/9015037370165196032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/04/eu-tenho-sonhos-mas-nao-hoje.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8428856433137807714</id><published>2011-04-18T09:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T09:18:01.463-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;“Confesso que ando muito cansado, sabe? Mas um cansaço diferente… um cansaço de não querer mais reclamar, de não querer pedir, de não fazer nada, de deixar as coisas acontecerem. Confesso que às vezes me dão umas crises de choro que parecem não parar, um medo e ao mesmo tempo uma certeza de tudo que quero ser, que quero fazer. Confesso que você estava em todos esses meus planos, mas eu sinto que as coisas vão escorrendo entre meus dedos, se derramando, não me pertecendo. Estou realmente cansado. Cansado e cansado de ser mar agitado, de ser tempestade… quero ser mar calmo. Preciso de segurança, de amor, de compreensão, de atenção, de alguém que sente comigo e fale: “Calma, eu estou com você e vou te proteger! Nós vamos ser fortes juntos, juntos, juntos.” Confesso que preciso de sorrisos, abraços, chocolates, bons filmes, paciência e coisas desse tipo. Confesso, confesso, confesso. Confesso que agora só espero você.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8428856433137807714?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8428856433137807714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8428856433137807714&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8428856433137807714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8428856433137807714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/04/confesso-que-ando-muito-cansado-sabe.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8526343992016850876</id><published>2011-04-18T09:16:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T09:17:09.018-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;"Exatamente assim. Pesada, sufocada [...] Sabe,eu acho que não sei fechar ciclos, colocar pontos finais [...] eu vou gostando, eu vou cuidando, eu vou desculpando, eu vou superando, eu vou compreendendo, eu vou relevando [...] vou dando muito de mim, e aceitando o pouquinho que os outros tem para me dar.&lt;br /&gt;Esse é um dos meus erros: me entregar demais, acreditar demais, e depois ficar sem entender porque as coisas são tão efêmeras..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8526343992016850876?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8526343992016850876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8526343992016850876&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8526343992016850876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8526343992016850876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/04/exatamente-assim.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-5256088096049575891</id><published>2011-04-17T23:09:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T23:09:29.760-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I will never know if you would...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-5256088096049575891?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/5256088096049575891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=5256088096049575891&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5256088096049575891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5256088096049575891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-will-never-know-if-you-would.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-1139696806515571346</id><published>2011-04-05T22:56:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T23:07:02.242-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;1. Não sou criativo(a).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Uso relógio no braço direito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;3. Adoro chuva de verão.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Tenho pulseiras no braço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;5. Risco e personalizo de caneta quase tudo que eu tenho.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;6. Não consigo guardar dinheiro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;7. Odeio calor.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;8. Sempre estou com fome.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;9. Quando mais quero, ninguém quer sair.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Quero ter talão de cheques.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;11. Odeio calças cor de marca-texto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;12. Nunca ganho o presente que quero, no natal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;13. Acredito em primeiras impressões.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Sempre estrago as minhas canetas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;15. Queria ter estilo.&lt;br /&gt;16. Tenho mania de perseguição.&lt;br /&gt;17. Sinto falta de ter um animal de estimação.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;18. Não sou do jeito que eu queria.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;19. Tenho ciúmes de meus amigos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;20. Sou grudento(a).&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;21. Tenho ciúmes de objetos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;22. Nunca ganhei nas raspadinhas da loteria.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Risco CDs/DVDs com uma extrema facilidade.&lt;br /&gt;24. Nunca gosto dos presentes que recebo.&lt;br /&gt;25. Não consigo guardar segredos.&lt;br /&gt;26. Nunca tenho dinheiro na carteira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;27. Odeio lugares cheios.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Amo ir a shows. &lt;strike style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;(pena que nunca vou)&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;29. Não tenho fotos boas.&lt;br /&gt;30. Sou super azarado, em tudo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;31. Amo estalar os dedos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;32. Tenho um (só um) dólar guardado.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;33. Não sou famoso em lugar nenhum.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;34. Sonho em fazer intercâmbio, pra qualquer lugar do mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;b&gt;35. Odeio ficar no computador sem ouvir música.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;36. &lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;Computadores lentos me irritam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;b&gt;37. Nunca acho músicas boas em rádio.&lt;/b&gt;                                 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;strong style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-weight: bold; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;38. Sou muito carente.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;39. Odeio quando bandas que eu gosto viram modinha.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;40. Não fico com quem eu quero.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;41. Sou super azarada no amor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;42. Quero trabalhar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-1139696806515571346?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/1139696806515571346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=1139696806515571346&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1139696806515571346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1139696806515571346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/04/1.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-160678605961515642</id><published>2011-04-04T21:53:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T21:54:21.174-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;and sometimes you close your eyes and see the place where you used to live when you were young...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-160678605961515642?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/160678605961515642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=160678605961515642&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/160678605961515642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/160678605961515642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/04/and-sometimes-you-close-your-eyes-and.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7387465845349150647</id><published>2011-03-23T10:17:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T10:20:47.449-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Caio F. Abreu'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; line-height: 1.3; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-weight: inherit; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-weight: inherit; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-weight: inherit; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Ela é uma moça de poses delicadas, sorrisos discretos e olhar misterioso. Ela tem cara de menina mimada, um quê de esquisitice, uma sensibilidade de flor, um jeito encantado de ser, um toque de intuição e um tom de doçura. Ela reflete lilás, um brilho de estrela, uma inquietude, uma solidão de artista e um ar sensato de cientista. Ela é intensa e tem mania de sentir por completo, de amar por completo e de ser por completo. Dentro dela tem um coração bobo, que é sempre capaz de amar e de acreditar outra vez. Ela tem aquele gosto doce de menina romântica e aquele gosto ácido de mulher moderna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-7387465845349150647?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7387465845349150647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7387465845349150647&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7387465845349150647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7387465845349150647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/03/ela-e-uma-moca-de-poses-delicadas.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8545243960954294623</id><published>2011-03-23T10:10:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T10:16:33.278-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;VIRGO - The One that Waits&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dominant in relationships. Someone loves them right now. Always wants the last word.. Caring. Smart. Loud. Loyal. Easy to talk to. Everything you ever wanted. Easy to please. A pushover. Loves to gamble and take chances. Needs to have the last say in everything.. They think they know everything and usually do. Respectful to others but you will quickly lose their respect if you do something untrustworthy towards them and never regain respect. They do not forgive and never forget. The one and only. 7 years of bad luck if you do not forwa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;rd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8545243960954294623?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8545243960954294623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8545243960954294623&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8545243960954294623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8545243960954294623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2011/03/virgo-one-that-waits-dominant-in.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-3648686130228751517</id><published>2010-12-24T10:30:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T10:33:41.186-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;É noite agora.&lt;br /&gt;Tem alguma coisa que você deveria estar fazendo agora.&lt;br /&gt;Você comeu carne hoje.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Há uma televisão proxima a você.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você se dá bem com seus vizinhos.&lt;br /&gt;Você está com fome agora.&lt;br /&gt;Você trabalhou hoje.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você tem um emprego&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seus pais ainda estão juntos.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você acordou antes das 11:00 hoje.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gatos são melhores que cachorros.&lt;br /&gt;Crepúsculo é uma saga horrível.&lt;br /&gt;Harry Potter é uma saga horrível.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seu celular está perto de você.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sua cor preferida é azul ou roxo.&lt;br /&gt;Seu cabelo é curto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você está sozinho agora.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;A última coisa que você bebeu foi água.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seu cabelo é da cor natural.&lt;br /&gt;Você não bebe refrigerante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você tem pelo menos 50 reais na sua carteira.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Está frio agora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você leu pelo menos 5 livros esse ano.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você conhece alguém que está no hospital agora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você tomou banho hoje.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você conhece alguém que venceu o câncer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você prefere usar tênis.&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate é melhor que baunilha.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você é alérgico a amendoim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você nunca foi a Londres.&lt;br /&gt;Você quer ir a Europa.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você está usando um notebook agora.&lt;br /&gt;Cirurgia plástica é uma boa idéia.&lt;br /&gt;Seus amigos usam dorgas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você está usando algum esmalte agora.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você já fez uma dieta.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você está usando meias agora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você cortou seu cabelo no último mês.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seu aniversário é nos próximos 3 meses.&lt;br /&gt;Filmes de comédia são melhores que de ação.&lt;br /&gt;Você é horrível em matemática.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você é fluente em mais de uma língua.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você adora salada&lt;b&gt;.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você tem 3 ou mais travesseiros na sua cama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você vive com seus pais.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você está feliz agora.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você já se formou no colégio.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você tem um animal de estimação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você tem olhos claros.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seu nome tem mais de 5 letras&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você está em um relacionamento.&lt;br /&gt;Você consegue contar até 50 em outra língua.&lt;br /&gt;Você já dirigiu um carro&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Você vive fora do Brasil.&lt;br /&gt;Você tem mais de 18 anos.&lt;br /&gt;Você tem algum parente no exército.&lt;br /&gt;Você é filho único.&lt;br /&gt;Você é vegetariano.&lt;br /&gt;Você já foi nos Estados Unidos.&lt;br /&gt;Você tem uma tatuagem.&lt;br /&gt;Você tem um piercing.&lt;br /&gt;Você usa aparelho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você usa óculos ou lentes&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Você tem cabelo cacheado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você saiu para comer na última semana.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você esteve bêbado alguma vez no último mês.&lt;br /&gt;Você é bissexual ou homossexual.&lt;br /&gt;Você foi ao cinema no último mês.&lt;br /&gt;Você se interessa em política.&lt;br /&gt;Você é BV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você beijou 2 ou mais pessoas esse ano&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você beijou alguém no último mês.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você foi abraçado hoje.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você já pagou mais de 250 reais em alguma roupa.&lt;br /&gt;Você gosta de Lady Gaga.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você ama rock.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você ama música eletrônica.&lt;br /&gt;Você ama rap ou hip hop.&lt;br /&gt;Você ama MPB.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você ama música antiga.&lt;br /&gt;Você já tirou fotos de si mesmo só porque estava entediado.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você conhecia alguém com menos de 10 anos que faleceu.&lt;br /&gt;Você já esteve em um acidente de carro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você já fumou cigarro.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você já experimentou algum tipo de droga.&lt;br /&gt;Você acredita em horas iguais.&lt;br /&gt;Você já ficou com alguém 5 anos mais novo que você.&lt;br /&gt;Você já ficou com alguém 5 anos mais velho que você.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você já terminou com alguém para ficar com outra pessoa.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguém já terminou com outra pessoa para ficar com você.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você já teve o coração partido.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você já partiu o coração de alguém.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você é cristão.&lt;br /&gt;Você é espírita.&lt;br /&gt;Você já passou 48 horas acordado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você está sentindo saudades de alguém agora.&lt;br /&gt;Você ficou triste recentemente.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você já foi traído.&lt;br /&gt;Você tem um coração partido nesse momento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-3648686130228751517?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/3648686130228751517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=3648686130228751517&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3648686130228751517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3648686130228751517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/12/e-noite-agora.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6540911842007277991</id><published>2010-12-20T21:44:00.007-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T22:31:45.874-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm in. and all I have to say is: so what ? it's not like I am smarter now, because I'm not. and it's not like I have found a reason for my life. because nothing's changed. I know next year will be a different year, but I'm still feeling empty and it's not a college that will change it. I waited for this day for half an year, and I swear, I waited for more, I thought I would feel proud of myself, actually, I thought my family or friends would. it's never how I expect it to be&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;fake sense of accomplishment&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/38037745-6540911842007277991?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6540911842007277991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6540911842007277991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6540911842007277991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6540911842007277991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-in.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-1201670674860324802</id><published>2010-11-27T01:10:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T01:13:59.153-02:00</updated><title type='text'>O amor é o ridículo da vida.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A gente procura nele uma &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;pureza impossível&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;, uma pureza que está sempre se pondo. A vida veio e me levou com ela. Sorte é se abandonar e aceitar essa vaga ideia de paraiso que nos persegue, bonita e breve, como borboletas que só vivem 24 horas. Morrer NÃO dói.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Cazuza)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-1201670674860324802?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/1201670674860324802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=1201670674860324802&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1201670674860324802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1201670674860324802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/11/o-amor-e-o-ridiculo-da-vida.html' title='O amor é o ridículo da vida.'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-2516745808487953254</id><published>2010-10-13T12:26:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T12:33:18.233-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Porto Alegre, 10 de agosto de 1985</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Cansado, cansado. Quase não dormi. E não consigo tirar você da cabeça. Estou te escrevendo porque não consigo tirar você da cabeça. Hesito em dizer qualquer coisa tipo me-perdoe ou qualquer coisa assim. Mas quero te contar umas coisas. Mesmo que a gente não se veja mais. Penso em você, penso em você com força e carinho. Axé.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;(...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Quando pergunto você-compreende-tudo-isso não estou subestimando você. Ah, deus, perdoe. Não sinto agressividade nenhuma em relação a você. E gosto das tuas histórias. E gosto da tua pessoa. Dá um certo trabalho decodificar todas as emoções contraditórias, confusas, soma-las, diminui-las e tirar essa síntese numa palavra só, esta: gosto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;(...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Estou te querendo muito bem neste minuto. Tinha vontade que você estivesse aqui e eu pudesse te mostrar muitas coisas, grandes, pequenas, e sem nenhuma importância, algumas. Fique feliz, fique bem feliz, fique bem claro, queira ser feliz. Você é muito lindo e eu tento te enviar a minha melhor vibração de axé. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Mesmo que a gente se perca, não importa. Que tenha se transformado em passado antes de virar futuro. Mas que seja bom o que vier, para você, para mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com cuidado, com carinho grande, te abraço forte e te beijo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caio F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.: Te escrevo, enfim, me ocorre agora, porque nem você nem eu somos descartáveis. E amanhã tem sol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-2516745808487953254?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/2516745808487953254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=2516745808487953254&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2516745808487953254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2516745808487953254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/10/porto-alegre-10-de-agosto-de-1985.html' title='Porto Alegre, 10 de agosto de 1985'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-5626172511807305938</id><published>2010-09-06T10:58:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T11:02:51.491-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yeah'/><title type='text'>maps</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(163, 163, 163); line-height: 16px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;pack up. I've strayed enough. oh say say say:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;wait, they don't love you like I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;maps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;made off, don't stray&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 3px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;well my kind's your kind, I'll stay the same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-5626172511807305938?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/5626172511807305938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=5626172511807305938&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5626172511807305938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5626172511807305938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/09/maps.html' title='maps'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-4182250868512430474</id><published>2010-08-12T17:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T17:12:22.581-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CFA'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"Deu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;vontade de ficar mais tempo junto, deu vontade de levar essa história até o fim - e eu não tenho a menor idéia do que você pensa a respeito, a gente não conversa sobre isso, só fica fazendo uma linha nada-tem-muita-importância, ou algo assim."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva, Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="copy" style="color: rgb(110, 113, 115); padding-top: 10px; padding-right: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 10px; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-4182250868512430474?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/4182250868512430474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=4182250868512430474&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4182250868512430474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4182250868512430474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/08/deu-vontade-de-ficar-mais-tempo-junto.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-2245657218322982988</id><published>2010-08-09T23:00:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T23:02:13.217-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Young'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='F.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0cm;margin-right:.9pt;margin-bottom:0cm; margin-left:13.85pt;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops:36.0pt;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-bidi-font-weight:bold;color:black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0cm;margin-right:.9pt;margin-bottom:0cm; margin-left:13.85pt;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops:36.0pt;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;"(...) Para sair com ela pelos lugares mais públicos, dizendo para todo mundo: vocês estão vendo essa mulher? Heim? Estão vendo? Ela pode enlouquecer, engordar, emburrecer. Pode me desprezar, cuspir em mim e chamar meus livros de porcaria. Ela pode a puta que o pariu, que eu vou continuar sentindo a mesma coisa por ela: amor.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0cm;margin-right:.9pt;margin-bottom:0cm; margin-left:13.85pt;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops:36.0pt;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0cm;margin-right:.9pt;margin-bottom:0cm; margin-left:13.85pt;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops:36.0pt;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;Para todo o sempre, estaria louco por ela e morreria por ela, mesmo sabendo que “todo o sempre” é errado dizer e “por ela” é feio. Por ela, escreveria mil livros inteiramente errados e feios. Só por ela. Porque ela sempre seria inteira linda, e nem isso importava. Ela já possuía meu infinito amor, quando me sentei ao seu lado.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0cm;margin-right:.9pt;margin-bottom:0cm; margin-left:13.85pt;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops:36.0pt;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0cm;margin-right:.9pt;margin-bottom:0cm; margin-left:13.85pt;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops:36.0pt;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0cm;margin-right:.9pt;margin-bottom:0cm; margin-left:13.85pt;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops:36.0pt;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;Pois percebi que ela era minha. Minha. Louca ou não, burra ou não, linda ou não, magra ou não. Grávida de outro ou não. Eu a amava, como ainda a amo, e fodam-se todas as estatísticas que provam que isso não existe."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0cm;margin-right:.9pt;margin-bottom:0cm; margin-left:13.85pt;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops:36.0pt;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-bidi-font-weight:bold;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0cm;margin-right:.9pt;margin-bottom:0cm; margin-left:13.85pt;margin-bottom:.0001pt;tab-stops:36.0pt;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-bidi-font-weight:bold;color:black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="mso-bidi-font-weight:bold;color:black;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-2245657218322982988?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/2245657218322982988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=2245657218322982988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2245657218322982988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2245657218322982988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-1974830119473053169</id><published>2010-08-09T12:10:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T12:11:58.945-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Eu queria que fosse um viciado, pra eu ser sua &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;heroína&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; e poder dizer '&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;eu te amo&lt;/span&gt;' sem nenhuma ironia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-1974830119473053169?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/1974830119473053169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=1974830119473053169&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1974830119473053169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1974830119473053169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/08/eu-queria-que-fosse-um-viciado-pra-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8784928969601785971</id><published>2010-07-30T11:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T11:14:54.470-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rachel Vincent'/><title type='text'>Farra</title><content type='html'>Não me lembro de ter voltado pela multidão. Não me lembro de ter passado por pessoas, empurrado ou pisado em pés. Mas de repente eu estava ali, e ele estava sentado na minha frente em um banco de bateria, com um belo violão no colo. O instrumento cantava para ele como ele cantava para mim. Seus dedos escorregavam pelas casas e ele tocava as cordas sem prendê-las. Sua cabeça balançava de acordo com uma batida que havia criado do nada.&lt;br /&gt;Ao meu redor, as pessoas dançavam. Balançavam, se mexiam e prendiam umas às outras ao ritmo da melodia dolorosa dele. Eu queria dançar – precisava viver aquelas notas -, mas não queria arruinar a canção com minha falta de habilidade.&lt;br /&gt;Então Evan olhou para a frente e me viu. Ele sorriu e seus olhos brilharam de novo, mais forte do que antes, e de repente eu me senti quente por dentro.&lt;br /&gt;Seus dedos passaram pelas cordas, e a melodia triste se aprofundou, amadureceu, ganhando foco e complexidade. Sua voz provocava novas palavras no ar entre nós. Eram as letras dele, mas também eram minhas. Eu não podia tê-las cantado. Não podia nem mesmo tê-las escrito. Mas ele as tirou de mim. Deu todas elas a mim. Elas eram nossas.&lt;br /&gt;(...)&lt;br /&gt;Evan soltou o violão e se ajoelhou na minha frente. – O que aconteceu?&lt;br /&gt;- Isso foi... lindo – sussurrei, frustrada e humilhada pelo vocabulário inadequado e sem talento. Ele havia dado a mim o presente mais maravilhoso que experimentei, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;e eu não podia nem mesmo dizer a ele como me sentia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(...)&lt;br /&gt;As primeiras notas foram apenas de baixo e da bateria, altivas, mas o ritmo trazia com ele imagens de noites úmidas e abafadas e poucas roupas. Noites quentes demais para tocar outra pessoa, mas nas quais o desejo existia da mesma maneira.&lt;br /&gt;Senti o calor apesar do salão com ar condicionado, porque Evan me puxou para perto e suas mãos mágicas e musicais estavam sobre mim. Quando as palavras começaram, ele sussurrou em meu ouvido, tão baixo que ninguém mais conseguiria escutar.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não sabia dançar. Nem um passo. Mas eu conseguia envolvê-lo com meus braços e permitia que ele movesse a nós dois com a música, guiando-me. Tocando em mim como tocava seu violão.&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria fazer musica para ele, mas não conseguia. Eu sabia dar arte, não fazer. Precisei de todos os esforços de autocontrole que possuía para não dar a ele aquela canção enquanto ele a murmurava. Para não moldá-la e transformá-la. Eu me forcei a acalmar meu desejo. Eu o enterrei na sensação das mãos dele em minhas costas, de seus lábios roçando em meu ouvido. Eu o sentiria da maneira normal, mesmo que fosse por alguns minutos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8784928969601785971?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8784928969601785971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8784928969601785971&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8784928969601785971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8784928969601785971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/07/farra.html' title='Farra'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-2493006164009941355</id><published>2010-07-23T23:08:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T23:36:41.388-03:00</updated><title type='text'>useless xxx</title><content type='html'>• Nome: jéssica :}&lt;br /&gt;• Data de aniversário: 19/09&lt;br /&gt;• Idade: 17&lt;br /&gt;• Signo Zodíaco: virgem&lt;br /&gt;• Tatuagem ? não&lt;br /&gt;• Piercing ? not at all&lt;br /&gt;• Musica: empty with you - the used&lt;br /&gt;• Ama tanto alguém que seria capaz de chorar ? não&lt;br /&gt;• Você teve alguma fratura? uhun&lt;br /&gt;• Tipos de bebidas: chá, café, combo kk&lt;br /&gt;• A metade de vidro cheia ou metade vazia? sempre cheia&lt;br /&gt;• Flor(es): lisianthus. ;*&lt;br /&gt;• História infantil favorita: peter pan&lt;br /&gt;• As tempestades você gosta ou elas te assustam? like it&lt;br /&gt;• Programa de TV favorito: o desenho dos pinguins :m /kowalski&lt;br /&gt;• Pior sentimento do mundo: inveja&lt;br /&gt;• Melhor sentimento do mundo: amor o caralho hehe&lt;br /&gt;• É romântico(a)? sou ;x&lt;br /&gt;• Montanha-russa: assustadora ou excitante? assustadora&lt;br /&gt;• Quantos toques antes de atender o telefone? nem atendo :D&lt;br /&gt;• Número favorito: 9&lt;br /&gt;• Tipo de música: rox&lt;br /&gt;• Assunto de conversação mais detestável: política&lt;br /&gt;• Cor(es) favorita(s): preta, vermelha :)&lt;br /&gt;• Como te vê no futuro? que futuro ? hahah&lt;br /&gt;• Comida preferida: batata rs&lt;br /&gt;• Qual a primeira coisa que você pensa quando acorda? voltando a dormir em 5,4..&lt;br /&gt;• Loiras, morenas ou ruivas? morenos ;p&lt;br /&gt;• Se pudesse ser outra pessoa quem seria? taylor momsen AHAN&lt;br /&gt;• Filme preferido: 500 days of summer (?)&lt;br /&gt;• Esporte preferido: dormir&lt;br /&gt;• Tímido ou extrovertido? boba&lt;br /&gt;• Hobbie: boooks, musica e dormir :3&lt;br /&gt;• Frase que você diz muito: anything 'muito'&lt;br /&gt;• Gostaria de ganhar o que no seu aniversário? o mundo&lt;br /&gt;• Paixões: comer, meus amigos... rs&lt;br /&gt;• Doce ou salgado? salgado&lt;br /&gt;• Acredita que um amor pode durar eternamente? na literatura :D&lt;br /&gt;• Condutor ou conduzido? conduzidissima&lt;br /&gt;• Ultimo lugar que você gritou: nem grito&lt;br /&gt;• O que faz quando está aborrecido(a)? durmo (:&lt;br /&gt;• Infiel num namoro? anem&lt;br /&gt;• É viciado em algo? na idéia do vício&lt;br /&gt;• Você se considera ciumento(a)? mooooooointo&lt;br /&gt;• Qual curso no vestibular? respondo daqui uns vinte anos&lt;br /&gt;• Chocolate ou baunilha? bala de amendoim :3&lt;br /&gt;• Sorvete preferido: amorgute hihi&lt;br /&gt;• Torrada ou bacon? torrada&lt;br /&gt;• Quem você levaria para uma ilha deserta? damon salvatore. ou alguém um pouco mais real&lt;br /&gt;• Qual o seu poeta favorito? CFA ?&lt;br /&gt;• Para tingir seu cabelo de uma cor, qual seria? laraanjaaaaaaaaaa&lt;br /&gt;• Você é destro(a), canhoto(a) ou ambi-destro(a)? destra :)&lt;br /&gt;• Noite ou dia? noite&lt;br /&gt;• Um grande amor da sua vida: not yet ;D&lt;br /&gt;• Está apaixonado no momento? always in love&lt;br /&gt;• Está sendo correspondido? good one /hm&lt;br /&gt;• Vale a pena amar? será que amar é mesmo tuuuuuuudo ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-2493006164009941355?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/2493006164009941355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=2493006164009941355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2493006164009941355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2493006164009941355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/07/useless-xxx.html' title='useless xxx'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-915098544075671043</id><published>2010-07-07T22:32:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T22:37:03.991-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Está tudo planejado: se amanhã o dia for cinzento, se houver chuva ou se houver vento, se eu estiver cansado dessa antiga melancolia cinza fria sobre as coisas conhecidas pela casa a mesa posta e gasta está tudo planejado apago as luzes, no escuro e abro o gás de-fi-ni-ti-va-men-te ou então visto minhas calças vermelhas e procuro uma festa onde possa dançar rock até cair"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Então, que seja doce. Repito todas as manhãs, ao abrir as janelas para deixar entrar o sol ou cinza dos dias, bem assim: que seja doce. Quando há sol, e esse sol bate na minha cara amassada do sono ou da insônia, contemplando as partículas de poeira soltas no ar, feito um pequeno universo, repito sete vezes para dar sorte: que seja doce que seja doce que seja doce e assim por diante. Mas, se alguém me perguntasse o que deverá ser doce, talvez não saiba responder. Tudo é tão vago como se fosse nada"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sabe, eu me perguntava até que ponto você era aquilo que eu via em você ou apenas aquilo que eu queria ver em você, eu queria saber até que ponto você não era apenas uma projeção daquilo que eu sentia, e se era assim, até quando eu conseguiria ver em você todas as coisas que me fascinavam e que no fundo, sempre no fundo, talvez nem fossem suas, mas minhas, e pensava que amar era só conseguir ver, e desamar era não mais conseguir ver, entende? dolorido-dolorido, estou repetindo devagar para que você possa compreender melhor"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-915098544075671043?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/915098544075671043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=915098544075671043&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/915098544075671043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/915098544075671043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/07/esta-tudo-planejado-se-amanha-o-dia-for.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-516795739060012033</id><published>2010-07-07T22:28:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T22:28:39.855-03:00</updated><title type='text'>lixo e purpurina</title><content type='html'>"Chorar por tudo que se perdeu, por tudo que apenas ameaçou e não chegou a ser, pelo que perdi de mim, pelo ontem morto, pelo hoje sujo, pelo amanhã que não existe, pelo muito que amei e não me amaram, pelo que tentei ser correto e não foram comigo. Meu coração sangra com uma dor que não consigo comunicar a ninguém, recuso todos os toques e ignoro todas tentativas de aproximação. Tenho vergonha de gritar que esta dor é só minha, de pedir que me deixem em paz e só com ela, como um cão com seu osso"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caio Fernando Abreu&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-516795739060012033?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/516795739060012033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=516795739060012033&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/516795739060012033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/516795739060012033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/07/lixo-e-purpurina.html' title='lixo e purpurina'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6448561156083260457</id><published>2010-07-02T22:40:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T22:47:27.753-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>droga. um parágrafo inteiro de palavras que deram voltas e voltas mas não conseguiam parar de repetir a mesma palavra. 'você'. para não parecer mais boba, isso é o suficiente: meu pensamento está sempre em ti.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-6448561156083260457?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6448561156083260457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6448561156083260457&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6448561156083260457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6448561156083260457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/07/droga.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-62151995519631619</id><published>2010-06-15T10:27:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T10:28:37.217-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from seguindoestrelas.tumblr (gre)'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>(&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Silêncio&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Você tem um cigarro?&lt;br /&gt;- Estou tentando parar de fumar.&lt;br /&gt;- Eu também. Mas queria uma coisa nas mãos agora.&lt;br /&gt;- Você tem uma coisa nas mãos agora.&lt;br /&gt;- Eu?&lt;br /&gt;- Eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Silêncio&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-62151995519631619?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/62151995519631619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=62151995519631619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/62151995519631619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/62151995519631619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/06/silencio-voce-tem-um-cigarro-estou.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-667372766090251026</id><published>2010-06-11T22:58:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T23:13:46.504-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peter parker'/><title type='text'>do I ♥ ?</title><content type='html'>ok. eu não gosto de me sentir assim. eu sinto como se toda vez que a janela dele pisca, meu mundo vai cair, e quando não pisca... principalmente quando não pisca, é aí que o mundo acaba. odeio quando vejo o seu rosto em todas as pessoas, mas nunca é real, você nunca está ali. e toda essa agonia que eu passo, essa espera inútil por qualquer coisa que venha de você... me desgasta estar tão vulnerável a uma pessoa que nem sei se sente algum tipo de afeto por mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;depois das cinco coisas que me fazem querer não sentir mais isso, por pessoa alguma, eu me lembro... me lembro de como fico boba depois de qualquer coisa que você me diz, como me perco e me afundo quando nossos olhares se encontram. como fico rosada depois de falar qualquer besteira e em seguida me odiando mentalmente por ter feito isso. eu gosto da sensação que você me faz sentir. vale à pena.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"sabe o que me deixaria feliz ?" ser a sua &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;mary jane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-667372766090251026?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/667372766090251026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=667372766090251026&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/667372766090251026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/667372766090251026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/06/do-i.html' title='do I ♥ ?'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8908899762742072140</id><published>2010-06-10T23:27:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T23:28:03.750-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"o problema é que até agora não existia alguém que pudesse te fazer gostar"&lt;div&gt;cheguei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ele disse&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8908899762742072140?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8908899762742072140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8908899762742072140&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8908899762742072140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8908899762742072140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/06/o-problema-e-que-ate-agora-nao-existia.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-654743485294593455</id><published>2010-06-10T23:26:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T23:27:09.420-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-size: 13px; "&gt;no caos me sinto à vontade: a tempestade é meu elemento. na fria janela de um apartamento, à espera do salto: perigo, suspense... no alto inverno portoalegrense.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-size: 13px; "&gt;só acredito no que pode ser dito em 3 minutos. eu grito e repito: só te peço &lt;b&gt;3 minutos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-654743485294593455?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/654743485294593455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=654743485294593455&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/654743485294593455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/654743485294593455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/06/no-caos-me-sinto-vontade-tempestade-e.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-3303823673176464878</id><published>2010-06-10T23:22:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T23:25:56.533-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-size: 13px; "&gt;toda vez que toca o telefone eu penso que é você. toda noite de insônia eu penso em te escrever. pra dizer que o teu silêncio me agride e não me agrada ser um calendário do ano passado, pra dizer que teu crime me cansa e não compensa entrar na dança depois que a música parou. toda vez que toca o telefone eu penso que é você. toda noite de insônia eu penso em te escrever. escrever uma carta definitiva, que não dê alternativa pra quem lê. te chamar de carta fora do baralho. descartar, embaralhar você e fazer você voltar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-size: 13px; "&gt;[ao tempo em que nada nos dividia. havia motivo pra tudo e tudo era motivo pra mais. era perfeita simetria, éramos duas metades iguais.]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;o teu maior defeito talvez seja a perfeição. tuas virtudes talvez não tenham solução&lt;/i&gt;. então pegue o telefone ou um avião, deixe de lado os compromissos marcados, perdoa o que puder ser perdoado, esquece o que não tiver perdão e vamos voltar aquele lugar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-3303823673176464878?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/3303823673176464878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=3303823673176464878&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3303823673176464878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3303823673176464878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/06/toda-vez-que-toca-o-telefone-eu-penso.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-2529728542920378234</id><published>2010-05-24T01:47:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T02:04:59.730-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abril como conseqüência áries.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>e ele disse, como sempre dizia: vou ter que pedir pra você fazer o contrário, porque se eu falar pra se cuidar, é tão teimosa que só pra não provar que sempre tenho razão vai lá e faz besteira. como você sempre acaba fazendo quando está sem mim. é isso que você é... nada além de bagunça quando não estou perto. não! dessa vez não faria birra, porque nem tão no fundo assim ela sabia que ele poderia dizer isso, mesmo não querendo ouvir, e estaria certo. não teria nem indigna coragem de negar. não poderia estar tão na cara assim, poderia ? a besteira ambulante passou a ter um motivo. ou era no que ela tentava acreditar. no final das contas a unica coisa que continuou entre eles além da distancia foi o buraco no peito. não adiantava o quanto ela tentasse se desligar. ela tinha certeza da parte que faltava nela. estaria sempre com ele e ela nem fazia questão de pedir devolução.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-2529728542920378234?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/2529728542920378234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=2529728542920378234&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2529728542920378234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2529728542920378234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/05/e-ele-disse-como-sempre-dizia-vou-ter.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8431303001546068628</id><published>2010-05-08T19:26:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T19:31:19.156-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>quando você percebe que não tem mais nada a perder. seus pais morreram dois anos atrás. depois disso descobre que era adotada. seu irmão que nem era seu irmão realmente te ignora e não pretende falar com você tão cedo. você é burra e gaga. sua mãe verdadeira é uma vampira que não se importa com você e só te usa. seu tio que você odeia é o seu pai biológico. seu namorado idiota é um vampiro emo. sua melhor amiga é uma bruxa que inconsciente e indiretamente está ajudando sua mãe a matar seu atual namorado e seu possivelmente futuro namorado. então me diga elena: por que você não fica com o damon ? ele é mais bonito do que seu namorado stefan. dane-se que ele é irmão do seu namorado. ele tem senso de humor, é ironico, sexy, já disse que é incrivelmente lindo ? &lt;div&gt;agora eu me pergunto: quem é mais idiota.. elena ou sookie ? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8431303001546068628?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8431303001546068628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8431303001546068628&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8431303001546068628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8431303001546068628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/05/quando-voce-percebe-que-nao-tem-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-4341407875450536466</id><published>2010-04-24T18:54:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T19:00:54.444-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Greta Benitez'/><title type='text'>POESIAS SEM TÍTULO</title><content type='html'>Eu não conheço ninguém&lt;div&gt;Não devo a ninguém a minha parada na Terra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A farra da fera está na sala de espera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomara que a Terra, tão terra, tão solta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caia na estrada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomara que a volta, esquecida e rejeitada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fique por lá mesmo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu não conheço ninguém.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não devo a ninguém as palavras que inventei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não sei se devo, mas vou fazer um pedido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quero ver o viver, quero ver o sentido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quando você está do meu lado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;sei que existem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;estrelas de leite condensado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;girassóis de porcelana&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;e bonecas de cabelo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;enrolado.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Prédios em série&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;formando avenidas sem fim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e rosas embutidas em todo o sim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chuvas de cool jazz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;caindo na sacada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;do meu apê no último andar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;gotas iluminadas o bastante&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;para eu poder nadar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não quer dar uma volta no meu carro pratea-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;do?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Você vai ser o mocinho do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;primeiro filme falado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;se estiver do meu lado.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Café Expresso Blackbird.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-4341407875450536466?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/4341407875450536466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=4341407875450536466&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4341407875450536466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4341407875450536466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/04/poesias-sem-titulo.html' title='POESIAS SEM TÍTULO'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-2800709960245890191</id><published>2010-04-24T18:53:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T18:53:48.418-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Greta Benitez'/><title type='text'>MEU HERÓI</title><content type='html'>Pinto as unhas&lt;div&gt;os olhos e o coração de preto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;encho os pulmões de fumaça e ar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;esperando o dia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;em que o Batman vem me salvar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-2800709960245890191?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/2800709960245890191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=2800709960245890191&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2800709960245890191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2800709960245890191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/04/meu-heroi.html' title='MEU HERÓI'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-4492128451674461626</id><published>2010-04-24T18:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T18:52:49.661-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Greta Benitez'/><title type='text'>INTERRUPTOR</title><content type='html'>Acender lâmpadas?&lt;div&gt;Refletor, velas, isqueiro, canhão. lanterna,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;candeeiro, cigarro, estrela, fogueira, vaga-lume,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lampião?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não adianta nada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Está tudo apagado entre nós.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-4492128451674461626?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/4492128451674461626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=4492128451674461626&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4492128451674461626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4492128451674461626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/04/interruptor.html' title='INTERRUPTOR'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-1172625965945678812</id><published>2010-04-24T18:50:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T18:51:33.158-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Greta Benitez'/><title type='text'>SEXTA-FEIRA 13</title><content type='html'>Noite, vento, assobios, passos e correntes&lt;div&gt;Filme de terror&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A luz que se insinua entre as árvores&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alivia ou piora a dor?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-1172625965945678812?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/1172625965945678812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=1172625965945678812&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1172625965945678812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1172625965945678812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/04/sexta-feira-13.html' title='SEXTA-FEIRA 13'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-4697997189361780766</id><published>2010-04-24T18:50:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T18:50:47.985-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Greta Benitez'/><title type='text'>TENTATIVAS</title><content type='html'>Luvas de cetim&lt;div&gt;Luvas de borracha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cacos de vidro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uma prece&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mesmo assim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nada acontece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-4697997189361780766?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/4697997189361780766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=4697997189361780766&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4697997189361780766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4697997189361780766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/04/tentativas.html' title='TENTATIVAS'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-4753359174337128003</id><published>2010-04-24T18:46:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T18:50:11.514-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Greta Benitez'/><title type='text'>BRECHÓ</title><content type='html'>Como me sentia &lt;div&gt;muito entediada, vazia e só&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;fui comprar um coração usado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;num brechó.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Encontrei de vários tipos:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;lantejoulas, renda, pelúcia,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;corações de vó (ao lado do pingüim de geladeira)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cristal, vidro e madeira&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;corações de freira&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e um em especial&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que já havia sido apertado por espartilhos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E foi bem esse que me disse:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Vá em frente, moça. Tudo que você precisa é&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;de um pouco de fé"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-4753359174337128003?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/4753359174337128003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=4753359174337128003&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4753359174337128003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4753359174337128003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/04/brecho.html' title='BRECHÓ'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-5365221058932426246</id><published>2010-04-24T18:44:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T18:46:49.337-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Greta Benitez'/><title type='text'>BLASÉE</title><content type='html'>Morro de tédio.&lt;div&gt;Lá fora o próprio Demônio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me faz uma serenata&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mas não me sinto feliz com o assédio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ele toca trompete para mim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;implorando, desesperado,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;um sim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas me sinto tão inacessível nessa noite&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que fico calada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hoje sou a estrela mais azul e gelada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-5365221058932426246?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/5365221058932426246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=5365221058932426246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5365221058932426246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5365221058932426246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/04/blasee.html' title='BLASÉE'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6561075277996346674</id><published>2010-03-21T23:01:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T23:04:18.277-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;mais uma história com um final, mais um coração partido. um novo fim pra um amor normal. mais um choro sem sentido. não há razão pra te escrever, eu perdi a razão ao encontrar você e as minhas palavras se misturam num mar de falsas canções. você diz que é só de amor que eu sei falar. mal sabes que se eu soubesse eu tentaria te ligar pra dizer que amor não senti é mentir pra mim e mesmo que seja melhor assim &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;não posso negar que eu quero voltar&lt;/span&gt;, eu sempre quis nunca precisar te dizer que desde quando você se foi me pego pensando em nós dois. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;te perdendo eu cresci tanto que &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;eu não sei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt; se eu quero mais te encontrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-6561075277996346674?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6561075277996346674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6561075277996346674&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6561075277996346674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6561075277996346674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/03/mais-uma-historia-com-um-final-mais-um.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8491357253847160135</id><published>2010-03-07T02:02:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T02:06:03.482-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;p style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;feels like I have always known you and I swear I dreamt about you all those endless nights I was alone. it's like I've spent forever searching, now I know that it was worth it, with you it feels like I am finally home. falling head over heels. thought I knew how it feels but with you it's like the first day of my life. cause you leave me speechless when you talk to me, you leave me breathless the way you look at me. you manage to disarm me, my soul is shining through. can't help but surrender my everything to you. I thought I could resist you. I thought that I was strong. somehow you were different from what I've known. I didn't see you coming, you took me by surprise and you stole my heart before I could say no. it's something that you do &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I can't explain&lt;/span&gt;. I'd run a million miles just to hear you say my name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8491357253847160135?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8491357253847160135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8491357253847160135&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8491357253847160135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8491357253847160135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2010/03/feels-like-i-have-always-known-you-and.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-9095275428352109846</id><published>2009-12-30T22:12:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T22:13:34.597-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;never lasts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; and we've got to find &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;other ways&lt;/span&gt; to make it alone or keep a straight face. I've always lived like this. keeping a &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" &gt;comfortable distance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. up until now I swored to myself that I'm content with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;loneliness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, because none of it was ever &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;worth the risk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-9095275428352109846?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/9095275428352109846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=9095275428352109846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/9095275428352109846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/9095275428352109846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/12/maybe-i-know-somewhere-deep-in-my-soul.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8750262891974918780</id><published>2009-12-27T23:50:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T23:50:37.191-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>NICE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the city. yeah. just it jaj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8750262891974918780?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8750262891974918780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8750262891974918780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8750262891974918780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8750262891974918780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/12/nice-city.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-714038753445605327</id><published>2009-12-27T23:43:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T23:48:57.566-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;needed some time so I could find a little &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;strength&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; to redefine what I’ve become, what I have done. I never asked to be the one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I’m riding it out  this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; storm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; that you brought in. bringing it down. only around. for you I go again. it’s got to be, easy to see what everyone takes out of me. knocking me down, dragging me out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;when you are all alone with the melody, do you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;close your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" &gt;think of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;you were the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;reason&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; I survived. where did you go ? I need to know. I waited here, you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;" &gt;never &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;showed. It’s gonna pay, harder for me, I can’t &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;forgive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; so many things. when you weren’t there, I was around. why would you try and hold me now ? just tell me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-714038753445605327?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/714038753445605327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=714038753445605327&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/714038753445605327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/714038753445605327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/12/needed-some-time-so-i-could-find-little.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-830759129424338776</id><published>2009-12-27T23:42:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T23:43:08.038-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>oi a claudia é uma chata e nao me deixa em paz bjus&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-830759129424338776?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/830759129424338776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=830759129424338776&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/830759129424338776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/830759129424338776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/12/oi-claudia-e-uma-chata-e-nao-me-deixa.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-4182232883265236804</id><published>2009-12-26T22:41:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T22:44:56.705-02:00</updated><title type='text'>what does it mean to you</title><content type='html'>eu sou simplesmente como uma bolha de sabão. frágil.&lt;br /&gt;se não tiver alguem as enxendo de ar, elas simplesmente voam, ficam fracas, até alguém ou alguma coisa chegar e as destruir. com um sopro, elas vão pra qualquer direção que o vento ordenar.&lt;br /&gt;sem direção, vulneráveis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-4182232883265236804?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/4182232883265236804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=4182232883265236804&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4182232883265236804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4182232883265236804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/12/what-does-it-mean-to-you.html' title='what does it mean to you'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7913526140537751428</id><published>2009-08-16T01:19:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T01:24:36.461-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I'm going home back to the place where I belong, where your love has always been enough for me (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;if it was enough, you would stay&lt;/span&gt;)   I'm not running from. no, I think you've got me all wrong.   I don't regret this life I chose for me (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;good for you, champ&lt;/span&gt;). but these places and these faces are getting old. so I'm going home. the miles are getting longer it seems the closer I get to you.   I've not always been the best man or friend for you (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yes, you haven't :&lt;/span&gt;) but your love remains true and I don't know why (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yeah, you really don't know why&lt;/span&gt;) yYou always seem to give me another try (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;because im a stupid person hah liked ?&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Be careful what you wish for!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;words&lt;/span&gt;) = notes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-7913526140537751428?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7913526140537751428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7913526140537751428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7913526140537751428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7913526140537751428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-going-home-back-to-place-where-i.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8438639005406482452</id><published>2009-07-17T20:49:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T20:50:40.128-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>eu odeio esperar a noite inteira e você não aparecer. eu &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;odeio&lt;/span&gt; pintar meu cabelo e você não reparar. eu fico tentando te lembrar, mas parece que se esqueceu de como é bom se apaixonar por ninguém menos que eu :) eu odeio te contar o meu dia e você me ignorar. eu &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;queria&lt;/span&gt; que fosse um viciado pra ser sua &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;heroína&lt;/span&gt; e poder dizer "eu te amo" sem nenhuma ironia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;eu&lt;br /&gt;odeio&lt;br /&gt;gostar&lt;br /&gt;de&lt;br /&gt;você.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8438639005406482452?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8438639005406482452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8438639005406482452&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8438639005406482452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8438639005406482452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/07/eu-odeio-esperar-noite-inteira-e-voce.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7452301373854421791</id><published>2009-07-12T14:14:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T14:17:39.655-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>o tempo está passando muito mais rápido do que eu. e eu estou começando a me arrepender de não passá-lo com você. agora eu estou tentando saber por que deixei isso preso dentro de mim. então, estou começando a me arrepender de não ter dito tudo para você. se eu ainda não o fiz, quero que agora você saiba: você nunca vai estar sozinho. sempre acreditei que não nada que eu precise a não ser você.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas se o amanhã nunca chegar&lt;br /&gt;não o deixe escapulir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;poderia ser o nosso único dia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;você sabe que apenas começou..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-7452301373854421791?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7452301373854421791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7452301373854421791&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7452301373854421791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7452301373854421791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-tempo-esta-passando-muito-mais-rapido.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-4252584592614458873</id><published>2009-07-12T14:01:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T14:28:23.837-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>comparações são facilmente feitas uma vez que você prova a perfeição. como uma maçã pendurada em uma árvore, eu peguei a mais madura e  eu ainda tenho a semente. você disse 'siga em frente'. para onde vou ? eu acho que o segundo melhor é tudo que eu vou conhecer. você é como um verão indiano no meio do inverno, como um doce com uma surpresa dentro. como eu fico melhor uma vez que eu provei do melhor ?  você é o melhor e, sim, eu realmente me arrependo. como eu pude me deixar, deixar você ir ? agora a lição está aprendida, eu toquei isso e eu fui queimada. ah, eu achava que você devia saber. porque quando eu estou com ele eu estou pensando em você. eu queria que eu estivesse olhando nos seus olhos. você não vir arrombar a porta e me levar embora ?  sem mais erros.. porque nos seus olhos eu gostaria de ficar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-4252584592614458873?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/4252584592614458873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=4252584592614458873&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4252584592614458873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/4252584592614458873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/07/comparacoes-sao-facilmente-feitas-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8803832809492877877</id><published>2009-07-12T12:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T12:54:30.238-03:00</updated><title type='text'>tchau! I have to go now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;eu queria levar você no meu porta-luvas&lt;br /&gt;te dar um beijo de sol, um beijo de chuva&lt;br /&gt;eu quero que você me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;guarde&lt;/span&gt; em seu pensamento&lt;br /&gt;eu quero que você me queira em seu travesseiro&lt;br /&gt;eu quero que você me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;queira&lt;/span&gt; sem julgamento&lt;br /&gt;eu quero que você me queira em fevereiro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; quero ser o sol, que &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;ilumina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; a sua manhã&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; ser o seu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;pra sempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, ser seu amanhã.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" &gt;espero a gente, te quero agora e sempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;" &gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8803832809492877877?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8803832809492877877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8803832809492877877&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8803832809492877877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8803832809492877877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/07/tchau-i-have-to-go-now.html' title='tchau! I have to go now'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-3742847537394319971</id><published>2009-07-04T22:42:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T22:48:24.569-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Teia - Orindes Fontela (Poemas)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Adivinha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que é impalpável&lt;br /&gt;mas&lt;br /&gt;pesa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o que é sem rosto&lt;br /&gt;mas&lt;br /&gt;fere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o que é invisível&lt;br /&gt;mas&lt;br /&gt;dói.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Eros II&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O amor não&lt;br /&gt;vê&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o amor não&lt;br /&gt;ouve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o amor não&lt;br /&gt;age&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o amor&lt;br /&gt;não.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Noite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esconder (esquecer)&lt;br /&gt;a face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soterrar (ocultar)&lt;br /&gt;a luz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;escurecer o&lt;br /&gt;amor&lt;br /&gt;dormir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aguardar o que nasce.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-3742847537394319971?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/3742847537394319971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=3742847537394319971&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3742847537394319971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3742847537394319971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/07/teia-orindes-fontela-poemas.html' title='Teia - Orindes Fontela (Poemas)'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7596846943484348505</id><published>2009-06-17T17:48:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T17:59:55.188-03:00</updated><title type='text'>sutilmente</title><content type='html'>e quando eu estiver triste, simplesmente me abrace. e quando eu estiver louca, subitamente se afaste. e quando eu estiver fogo, suavemente se encaixe..&lt;br /&gt;mas quando eu estiver morta, suplico que não me mate, não, dentro de ti&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-7596846943484348505?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7596846943484348505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7596846943484348505&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7596846943484348505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7596846943484348505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/06/sutilmente.html' title='sutilmente'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7950277404150459169</id><published>2009-06-17T17:47:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T17:47:25.067-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's okay now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-7950277404150459169?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7950277404150459169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7950277404150459169&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7950277404150459169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7950277404150459169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-okay-now.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8964755374616814476</id><published>2009-06-16T20:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T20:47:34.010-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so how do &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; expect me to live alone with just &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the closest thing to perfect;&lt;/span&gt;]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8964755374616814476?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8964755374616814476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8964755374616814476&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8964755374616814476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8964755374616814476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/06/so-how-do-you-expect-me-to-live-alone.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8323311068939865502</id><published>2009-06-15T21:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T21:30:12.439-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; how is lilah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; sick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; why ? ;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; i dont know, i wanna kill everybody today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; so do it ç.ç&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; can i ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; not exactly. but...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; cry. what can lilah do ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; what happened exactly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; nothing. im feeling empty again. and angry. sweety, i dont belong here ;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; i know u dont. so. i see only one way to change it ç.ç&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; how ? killing myself 8D -no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; ç.ç finding a reason to get here&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8323311068939865502?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8323311068939865502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8323311068939865502&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8323311068939865502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8323311068939865502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-is-lilah-sick-why-i-dont-know-i.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-2172808727622439886</id><published>2009-06-15T20:12:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T20:21:17.453-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>why is it that the best way to &lt;i&gt;appreciate&lt;/i&gt; something is &lt;i&gt;to be without&lt;/i&gt; it for a while ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had it and i didnt know what to do with it, i didnt know how to keep you here, how to make it lasts, then i lost it :D fair ? yes. even though, i dont know what i would do if you were here. it's like i'm the dog of bedi's profile. just looking for you, if i had found you, i wouldnt know what to do.. how to handle with this feelings. i'm just the girl in the music box (8) just watching to the days, without who i want. i know you're the only one who can make me feel better, the only one who is perfect to me. and i know why i just want you now. i always had you, you were always here, now that i don't have you anymore, i miss you.&lt;br /&gt;its the same old story. i will keep you here &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span name="caption" id="caption"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;it should have been easier&lt;/span&gt; by three: our old friend &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fear&lt;/span&gt;, you and me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just so you know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-2172808727622439886?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/2172808727622439886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=2172808727622439886&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2172808727622439886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2172808727622439886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/06/why-is-it-that-best-way-to-appreciate.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-3804171957417508777</id><published>2009-06-10T22:31:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T22:41:14.027-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i really dont know our next step. i really dont know what to do about "us". i didnt want to loooose you. u dont know how much i like you and how much i need you. it's a sad story, cause you're not happy with my friendship, that's not enough for you. but i cannot change now :~~ miss you, boy, you belong in my heart. :D i knew it would happen, i knew you wouldnt be here forever, cause you cant wait for me anymore, and i dont blame you, you're right. but i wanted different things, i wanted you here always, just here. i'll remember your hug. it cant look like, but i think i care more than u, cause i can be far from you if it's needed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i could fix you. and make me how you want me. but you can take your time now&lt;br /&gt;be brave, be strong, dear&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-3804171957417508777?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/3804171957417508777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=3804171957417508777&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3804171957417508777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3804171957417508777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-really-dont-know-our-next-step.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6941998443140438227</id><published>2009-05-31T16:33:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T16:36:14.086-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nm - 390'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>- Então vamos os dois ter esperanças, sim ? - sugeri. - Não que isso importe. Se você ficar, não preciso do paraíso.&lt;br /&gt;Ele se levantou devagar e veio colocar as mãos em meu rosto enquanto fitava meus olhos.&lt;br /&gt;- Para sempre - jurou ele, ainda meio confuso.&lt;br /&gt;- É só o que estou lhe pedindo - eu disse, e fiquei na ponta dos pés para colocar meus lábios nos dele.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-6941998443140438227?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6941998443140438227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6941998443140438227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6941998443140438227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6941998443140438227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/05/entao-vamos-os-dois-ter-esperancas-sim.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-5228504930079643626</id><published>2009-05-22T20:43:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T20:44:30.904-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;veja só: você é o único que não me dá&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; valor.&lt;/span&gt;. então por que será que este valor é o que eu ainda quero &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ter&lt;/span&gt; ? tenho tudo nas mãos, mas não tenho nada. então melhor ter nada e &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lutar&lt;/span&gt; pelo que eu quiser :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;me leva onde eu quero ir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; se quiser também pode vir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-5228504930079643626?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/5228504930079643626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=5228504930079643626&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5228504930079643626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5228504930079643626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/05/veja-so-voce-e-o-unico-que-nao-me-da.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-9124633040261700645</id><published>2009-05-20T12:36:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T12:44:28.270-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;black and white picture of him on my wall, I waited for his call, he always kept me waiting. and if I ever got another chance I'd still ask him to dance because he kept me waiting. I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;fell in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; with the guy at the rock show. he said "what ?" and I told him that I didn't know. he's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. when &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;he smiles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I melt inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. I'm not worthy for a minute of his time. I really wish it was only&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;" &gt; me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;" &gt; him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. I'm jealous of everybody in the room. please, don't look at me with those eyes. I dread a thought of our very &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;first kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, a target that I'm probably gonna miss... I'm just scared of what he thinks. he's so smart and independent I don't think he needs me. quite half as much as I know I&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; need&lt;/span&gt; him. I wonder why there's not another girl that he'd prefer! and when I feel like giving up like my world is falling down I show up at 3 a.m, he's still up watching "vacation" and I see his&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; pretty face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, it takes me away to a better place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;and I know that everything's gonna be fine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;everything is better when he's around&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-9124633040261700645?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/9124633040261700645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=9124633040261700645&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/9124633040261700645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/9124633040261700645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/05/black-and-white-picture-of-him-on-my.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7117573056277516286</id><published>2009-05-17T17:10:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T17:11:21.753-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>realmente alguem tem que crescer aqui, e pelo visto é o Sr Eu-sou-o-centro-do-universo-Todos-os-posts-são-para-mim! quem vive de passado é museu&lt;br /&gt;biiiiiiiiiiiiiiigdik&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-7117573056277516286?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7117573056277516286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7117573056277516286&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7117573056277516286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7117573056277516286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/05/realmente-alguem-tem-que-crescer-aqui-e.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-2709534574369518215</id><published>2009-04-28T22:47:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T23:21:59.760-03:00</updated><title type='text'>/revolts rz</title><content type='html'>ah, ninguém vai ler.. e esse é o objetivo, até porque se eu quisesse mostrar pra alguém eu colocava no fotolog /bigdik. mas mesmo assim, aqueeeeela necessidade de colocar em algum lugar :s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;eu não entendo, o que voce quer de mim ? eu estive aqui, eu fiz tudo que eu pude.. mesmo depois de tudo, eu quis tentar denovo. eu fui atrás. e o que eu ganhei como prêmio final ? um coração quebrado! é. por que eu tenho que suportar tudo ? por que eu tenho que ser submetida a isso ? o que eu fiz ? não é justo, realmente. eu que fazia tudo e sofria, ainda fico no estágio final da felicidade (rs) depois de tudo, invés de ficar bem né (y) mas apesar disso, você não se conforma em me deixar mal, quer me afundar, quer me matar aos poucos e me deixar no fim. porque você ainda tem o lindo trabalho de jogar as coisas na minha facce. como a linda história do +1 né bby ? :) eu não ligo /mentira. e o pior é que eu vou atras, me humilho. pra quê coleagan ? adoraria ser personagem de um livro (k) porque mesmo que tenha aquela cagada biggest, no final dá tudo certo. (ps: não coloque o morro dos ventos uivantes aí. porque afinal, a catherine e o heathcliff morreram.. mesmo que o final tenha sido feliz, pra outras pessoas :s) eu realmente sei que você tá bem, você não precisa demonstrar o quããããããããããão fácil você superou né. bem womanizer isso /heh adoraria ser a Sam de 'a garota americana' porque ela passa praticamente o livro inteiro obcecada por uma pessoa que ela acha que é a alma gêmea dela e não consegue ver que quem ela ama tá bem na frente dela, com as camisetas das bandas que ela ama, moreno e de olhos verdes.. (sorte ou azar ?) porque mesmo ela estando cega, no final ela se dá bem né ;) mas não. eu realmente nao consigo te tirar da minha mente, não consigo me enganar nem por um minuto, mesmo podendo achar a felicidade em outra pessoa /ounão. e eu sei que é injusto, mas eu to cansada daqui, to cansada de fingir estar bem quando EU NÃO ESTOU. to cansada de ouvir que eu vou ficar bem com o tempo, que tudo vai dar certo no final. desculpe, meu bem, mas se você quer ficar sentado esperando a sua vida mudar, boa sorte. seu destino é você quem faz (K). a velha história do 'não espere pela luz no final do túnel, vá até lá e a acenda' (vaaleu mãe) eu realmente tenho muitas distrações, mas quando você pára pra pensar, você realmente vê a sua vida, e o que está errado nela. e eu sei que se eu nao fizer uma mudança em mim, o tempo vai curar nada.. e eu sei que é injusto [2] mas eu conto os dias pra sair daqui, pra deixar toda essa bagunça pra trás, pra ter a minha nova chance. cada um daqui teve a sua devida importância pra mim, e, tem uma parte de cada um de vocês que eu vou levar aonde eu estiver, e a mudança que cada um causou em mim vai aparecer pra sempre. eu tenho alguns poucos e bons motivos por estar respirando ainda /drama rs um deles é esse orgulho e/ou vingança.. porque realmente sei, que no final desse seu jogo, quem vai ganhar sou eu. você foi a melhor parte de mim aqui, você foi a minha razão e poderia ter sido pra sempre.. mas você não estava disposto a alguma mudança por nós. não dá pra manter toda a sua individualidade em um relacionamento, pena que voce nao conseguiu entender isso. eu só me arrependo de uma coisa, que pode ter sido o começo do fim, mas eu sei que não foi só minha culpa, e você também sabe.. o resto, amor, eu faria tudo de novo. posso ser chamada de estúpida, idiota, sem amor-próprio mas, eu REALMENTE continuo acreditando, e se eu tivesse apenas mais uma chance, eu pegaria (again). é o que eu digo, é agora ou demore meses, porque eu sei que até lá eu posso estar preparada pra te dizer um não. adoraria acreditar que amanha vai estar tudo bem, tudo normal.. mas já to conformada :) algum dia você vai se cansar, aproveite essa fase, algum dia você vai crescer e ver o que você fez. e eu espero que seja tarde, não por maldade, eu só preciso aprender a controlar isso. todos me dizem que enquanto eu não te perdoar eu nao vou poder esquecer. mas eu te perdoei nas primeiras cinco horas que eu nao pude conter o choro. eu perdoei. eu só tento achar todos os dias mais motivos pra tentar me enganar, te odiar e esquecer o que você é pra mim. você sabe que você mudou, que voce não é mais a pessoa por quem eu me apaixonei, e você também vai ver isso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;finalizando com as últimas palavras da minha carta de suicídio (é! euri [13 de novembro de 2008 3:58:37] eu não sinto orgulho disso, mesmo): "e a todo o resto de toledo que me odeia, voces que acabaram comigo e me fizeram forte agora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt; MORRRRRAM! ou so se fodam"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-2709534574369518215?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/2709534574369518215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=2709534574369518215&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2709534574369518215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2709534574369518215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/04/revolts-rz.html' title='/revolts rz'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-5516348277958809929</id><published>2009-04-19T01:38:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T01:49:21.693-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/Seqr3HUo9sI/AAAAAAAABJM/L5dXm6o-pCk/s1600-h/SDC15176.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/Seqr3HUo9sI/AAAAAAAABJM/L5dXm6o-pCk/s320/SDC15176.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326258472665806530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;shouldn't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; love you but I want to, I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" &gt; just can't turn away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. I shouldn't see you but I can't move, I can't look away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;and I don't know how to be fine, when I'm not. cause I don't know how to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;make a feeling stop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; just so you know, this feeling's taking control of me and I can't help it. I won't sit around, &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;I can't let it win now&lt;/span&gt;. thought you should know.. I've tried my best to let go of you, but I don't want to. I just gotta say it all before I go.. just so you know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; it's getting hard to be around you, there's so much I can't say. do you want me to hide the feelings and look the other way ? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;this &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;emptiness&lt;/span&gt; is killing me and I'm wondering why I've waited so long. looking back I realize, it was always there just never spoken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; I'm &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;waiting here&lt;/span&gt;.. been waiting here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-5516348277958809929?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/5516348277958809929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=5516348277958809929&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5516348277958809929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5516348277958809929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-shouldnt-love-you-but-i-want-to-i.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/Seqr3HUo9sI/AAAAAAAABJM/L5dXm6o-pCk/s72-c/SDC15176.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-2641758721645446707</id><published>2009-04-17T21:36:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T21:44:19.519-03:00</updated><title type='text'>emergency</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;cause I've seen love die way too many times when it deserved to be alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;so you give up every chance you get just to feel new again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; I think we have an emergency. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; and you do your best to show me love BUT &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;IS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;so are you listening me ? so are you watching me ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; well, I can't pretend that I don't see this..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;no one cares to talk about it. to talk about it&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/38037745-2641758721645446707?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/2641758721645446707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=2641758721645446707&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2641758721645446707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2641758721645446707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2009/04/emergency.html' title='emergency'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-5062907070323734869</id><published>2008-12-02T14:17:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T14:18:34.790-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Alice D. se descabelava em frente à TV quando imaginava o beatle Jhon segurando a sua mão.&lt;br /&gt;sem perceber o que fazia, Alice D. dançava sozinha no seu quarto oito dias por semana.&lt;br /&gt;Alice D. não quer sair de casa, não quer estudar, não quer fazer mais nada.&lt;br /&gt;nunca quis ter um namorado, mesmo por que, se comparado ao beatle Jhon, todos eram homens nada.&lt;br /&gt;aos dezesseis fora internada para tratar uma obsessiva compulsão pelos reis do ié-ié-ié.&lt;br /&gt;Alice D. conte-me seus segredos tente entender, tente enfrentar seus medos.&lt;br /&gt;ei, doutor, o que há de errado em gostar de escutar os meus discos dos beatles?!?&lt;br /&gt;não vejo nenhum problema nisso.&lt;br /&gt;bem, garota, não é um mistério, seu distúrbio é um caso sério e esquisito. receito tratamento imediato.&lt;br /&gt;Alice D., beatlemaníaca, foi se tratar em uma clínica e fugiu pela janela do banheiro.&lt;br /&gt;na,na,na,na,na,na,na,na...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-5062907070323734869?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/5062907070323734869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=5062907070323734869&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5062907070323734869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5062907070323734869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/12/alice-d.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-3534256219246755806</id><published>2008-12-02T10:27:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T10:38:25.117-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='page 111'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='112'/><title type='text'>Bergdorf Blondes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Estava desesperada. Mesmo sabendo que Zach havia se comportado de forma abjeta, creio que ainda o amava. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não há nada mais doloroso do que estar perdidamente apaixonada por alguém que não te ama mais&lt;/span&gt;. Como é que fomos de &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ai, que gracinha que você nao sabe cozinhar&lt;/span&gt; a esse ponto, fiquei pensando enquanto estava deitada no quarto de hóspedes da Julie. Sentia como se estivesse num daqueles filmes extremamente deprimentes com a Meryl Streep, nos quais todo mundo mora nos subúrbios, veste-se com roupas horríveis e passa o tempo todo tentando entender o que acontecer com seus relacionamentos.&lt;br /&gt;- Nunca mais vou reconquistá-lo - lamurimei-me com Julie, quando ela apareceu na porta para ver como eu estava, um pouco mais tarde. - Sinto-me tão infeliz. Liguei para ele, e ele me disse que vai viajar.&lt;br /&gt;- Não sei porque você ainda fica pedindo - disse Julie, exasperada. - Eu já lhe disse que ele é um monstro, e acaba de provar que tenho razão.&lt;br /&gt;Sabia que Julie tinha razão, mas isso não tornava as coisas nem um pouco mais fáceis. Existe um padrão de comportamento irracional, partilhado por muitas garotas nova-iorquinas, que, quanto mais são maltradadas por um homem, mais o querem. Se conseguem reconquistá-lo, ele se torna mais cruel ainda. Então elas terminam porque ele está agindo de forma cruel, não muito diferente da forma como estivera agindo o tempo todo, e passam a se achar racionais e equilibradas. O objetivo do exercício é passar de rejeita-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; a rejeita-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dora&lt;/span&gt;. Imaginei que Julie entenderia isso, levando-se em consideração que ela provavelmente é a garota mais irracional da cidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-3534256219246755806?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/3534256219246755806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=3534256219246755806&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3534256219246755806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3534256219246755806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/12/bergdorf-blondes.html' title='Bergdorf Blondes'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-9170100960273531947</id><published>2008-11-29T23:45:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T23:49:57.701-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='counting crows'/><title type='text'>[accidentallyinlove]</title><content type='html'>então ela disse: qual o problema amor ? qual o problema eu não sei. bem, talvez eu esteja apaixonado. penso nisso - toda hora que - eu penso nisso, não consigo parar de pensar nisso. quanto mais vai demorar para curar isso, só para curar porque eu não posso ignorar se for amor (amor) ? me faz querer virar e me encarar, mas eu não sei nada sobre amor. vamos lá, vamos lá. o mundo vai seguir depois. vamos lá, vamos lá. porque todo mundo está procurando amor. então eu disse que eu sou uma bola de neve correndo, correndo de encontro a fonte, de onde vem todo esse amor derretendo debaixo do céu azul, amarrando a luz do sol, amor cintilante. bom, amor eu me rendo ao sorvete de morango. nunca terá fim todo esse amor. bom, eu não tive a intenção de fazer isso mas não tem como escapar do seu amor. essas linhas de relâmpagos significam que nós nunca estamos sozinhos, nunca estamos sozinhos, não, não. vamos lá, vamos lá. pule um pouco mais alto. vamos lá, vamos lá. se você se sentir um pouco mais leve. vamos lá, vamos lá. nós estávamos uma vez apaixonados...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-9170100960273531947?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/9170100960273531947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=9170100960273531947&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/9170100960273531947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/9170100960273531947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/11/accidentallyinlove.html' title='[accidentallyinlove]'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-1425883053883508742</id><published>2008-11-02T17:16:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T17:18:19.341-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eclipse'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Entenda, Bella, eu era aquele garoto. No meu mundo, eu já era um homem. Eu não estava procurando por amor - não, eu estava ansioso demais por ser soldado pra me preocupar com isso; eu não pensava em nada além do ideal de glória de guerra que eles estavam vendendo para os cadetes na época - mas se eu tivesse descoberto..." Ele pausou, pendendo a cabeça para o lado. "Eu ia dizer: se eu tivesse encontrado alguém, mas isso não basta. Se eu tivesse encontrado você, não há dúvida na minha cabeça sobre o que eu teria feito. Eu era aquele garoto, que teria - assim que eu tivesse descoberto que era por você que eu estava procurando - ficaria de joelhos e seguraria a sua mão. Eu iria querer você pela eternidade, mesmo se essa palavras não tivesse as mesmas conotações". Ele sorriu seu sorriso torto pra mim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-1425883053883508742?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/1425883053883508742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=1425883053883508742&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1425883053883508742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1425883053883508742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/11/entenda-bella-eu-era-aquele-garoto.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-955827674647470772</id><published>2008-10-05T20:25:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T20:26:47.329-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>can't make it alive on my own, but if you have to go, then please guy, just leave me alone. cause I don't want to see you and me going our separate ways. I'm begging you to stay, if it isn't too late..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-955827674647470772?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/955827674647470772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=955827674647470772&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/955827674647470772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/955827674647470772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/10/cant-make-it-alive-on-my-own-but-if-you.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-889150951875741589</id><published>2008-10-05T20:12:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T20:22:59.119-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='josbros'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SOlKLC4K70I/AAAAAAAAAw4/Y9Ko2dCxS28/s1600-h/je+1798527482.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253811993915879234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SOlKLC4K70I/AAAAAAAAAw4/Y9Ko2dCxS28/s320/je+1798527482.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;well tell me what we're fighting for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;cause we know that the truth means so much more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;push away if you can't don't lie [then don't lie]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;well, I gave up everything that I've got left&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;to show you I mean what I have said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I know I was such a fool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;but I can't live without you&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/38037745-889150951875741589?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/889150951875741589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=889150951875741589&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/889150951875741589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/889150951875741589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/10/well-tell-me-what-were-fighting-for.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SOlKLC4K70I/AAAAAAAAAw4/Y9Ko2dCxS28/s72-c/je+1798527482.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-6317561004475757310</id><published>2008-09-04T21:22:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T21:26:23.864-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SMB8pz8NkVI/AAAAAAAAAv4/dcTefNCKCas/s1600-h/je+1798527513.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SMB8pz8NkVI/AAAAAAAAAv4/dcTefNCKCas/s320/je+1798527513.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242327024018493778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;this is an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;S.O.S.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't wanna second guess&lt;br /&gt;this is the bottom line&lt;br /&gt;it's true&lt;br /&gt;I gave my all for you&lt;br /&gt;now my heart's in two&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I can't find the other half&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; it's like I'm walking on broken glass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;better believe I bled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; it's a call I'll never get&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/38037745-6317561004475757310?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/6317561004475757310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=6317561004475757310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6317561004475757310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/6317561004475757310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/09/this-is-s.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SMB8pz8NkVI/AAAAAAAAAv4/dcTefNCKCas/s72-c/je+1798527513.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-5848754060371894936</id><published>2008-08-19T14:41:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T14:43:39.119-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;puedo ver el &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;matiz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;  el reflejo de mi &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" &gt;depresión&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, puedo ver el perfil del &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;fantasma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; que hay en mi &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" &gt;interior&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. no he dejado de fumar y no puedo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" &gt;dormir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, en medio de la &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;soledad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; sigo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" &gt;pensando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; en &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" &gt;ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; no me atrevo a comenzar por olvidarte al&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. fin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, porque me asusta descifrar que habrá detrás de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. puedo ver desde aquí mis &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" &gt;recuerdos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; persiguiéndote..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-5848754060371894936?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/5848754060371894936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=5848754060371894936&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5848754060371894936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/5848754060371894936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/08/puedo-ver-el-matiz-el-reflejo-de-mi.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8831214642191672315</id><published>2008-08-09T14:01:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T14:04:33.293-03:00</updated><title type='text'>oh mr cullen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SJ3NxGIWOFI/AAAAAAAAAvY/ettkow2Bkt8/s1600-h/mr+cullen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SJ3NxGIWOFI/AAAAAAAAAvY/ettkow2Bkt8/s320/mr+cullen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232564585417291858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;nobody ever made me feel this way. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;²&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8831214642191672315?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8831214642191672315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8831214642191672315&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8831214642191672315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8831214642191672315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-mr-cullen.html' title='oh mr cullen'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SJ3NxGIWOFI/AAAAAAAAAvY/ettkow2Bkt8/s72-c/mr+cullen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-2822284201449275960</id><published>2008-07-17T21:04:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T21:06:36.326-03:00</updated><title type='text'>/23</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SH_ePugG7rI/AAAAAAAAAvI/r_gz8Va2TlQ/s1600-h/je+1038872.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SH_ePugG7rI/AAAAAAAAAvI/r_gz8Va2TlQ/s320/je+1038872.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224138454535171762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;  "Você não conhece alguém de palavra para confiar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Confiar em qualquer pessoa é estupidez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Então não leia as coisas para não se arrepender, escrevo coisas em vão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Mas se você acredita na palavra, palavras vão se revoltar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Aqui no código nada funciona mais, 23 é uma dica ou é só para atrapalhar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Porque é quando você está só, que começa a sentir medo ou pensar, será que vim aqui em vão?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Minha palavra busca o sentidos na sua mente! &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Me confunda...&lt;/span&gt; isso pode ser a melhor ajuda no momento!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Sem delongas fico fúgaz ao amargo rapto do pensamento... ao longo da decadência do momento, respiro e vejo o tempo passar sem sentido aos olhos de quem fica me vendo de trás!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-2822284201449275960?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/2822284201449275960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=2822284201449275960&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2822284201449275960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/2822284201449275960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/07/23.html' title='/23'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SH_ePugG7rI/AAAAAAAAAvI/r_gz8Va2TlQ/s72-c/je+1038872.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-1280634808389437488</id><published>2008-07-17T20:26:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T20:28:20.316-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>you don't understand. you don't wanna know&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-1280634808389437488?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/1280634808389437488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=1280634808389437488&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1280634808389437488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1280634808389437488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/07/you-dont-understand.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-807859187585802131</id><published>2008-05-29T16:59:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T17:02:28.666-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vinícius de Moraes'/><title type='text'>para uma Menina com uma Flor</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Porque você é uma menina com uma flor e tem uma voz que não sai, eu lhe prometo amor eterno, salvo se você bater pino, o que, aliás, você não vai nunca &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:130%;" &gt;porque você acorda tarde, tem um ar recuado e gosta de brigadeiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;: quero dizer, o doce feito com leite condensado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;E porque você é uma menina com uma flor e chorou na estação de Roma porque nossas malas seguiram sozinhas para Paris e você ficou morrendo de pena delas partindo assim no meio de todas aquelas malas estrangeiras.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:130%;" &gt;E porque você sonha que eu estou passando você para trás, transfere sua d.d.c. para o meu cotidiano, e implica comigo o dia inteiro como se eu tivesse culpa de você ser assim tão subliminar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;. E porque quando você começou a gostar de mim procurava saber por todos os modos com que camisa esporte eu ia sair para fazer mimetismo de amor, se vestindo parecido. E porque você tem um rosto que está sempre um nicho, mesmo quando põe o cabelo para cima, parecendo uma santa moderna, e anda lento, e fala em 33 rotações mas sem ficar chata. E porque você é uma menina com uma flor, eu lhe predigo muitos anos de felicidade, pelo menos até eu ficar velho: mas só quando eu der uma paradinha marota para olhar para trás, aí você pode se mandar, eu compreendo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;E porque você é uma menina com uma flor e tem um andar de pajem medieval; e porque você quando canta nem um mosquito ouve a sua voz, e você desafina lindo e logo conserta, e às vezes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:130%;" &gt;acorda no meio da noite e fica cantando feito uma maluca. E porque você tem um ursinho chamado Nounouse e fala mal de mim para ele, e ele escuta e não concorda porque ele é muito meu chapa, e quando você se sente perdida e sozinha no mundo você se deita agarrada com ele e chora feito uma boba fazendo um bico deste tamanho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;. E porque você é uma menina que não pisca nunca e seus olhos foram feitos na primeira noite da Criação, e você é capaz de ficar me olhando horas. E porque você é uma menina que tem medo de ver a Cara-na-Vidraça, e quando eu olho você muito tempo você vai ficando nervosa até eu dizer que estou brincando. E porque você é uma menina com uma flor e cativou meu coração e adora purê de batata, eu lhe peço que me sagre seu Constante e Fiel Cavalheiro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;E sendo você uma menina com uma flor, eu lhe peço também que nunca mais me deixe sozinho, como nesse último mês em Paris; fica tudo uma rua silenciosa e escura que não vai dar em lugar nenhum; os móveis ficam parados me olhando com pena; é um vazio tão grande que as mulheres nem ousam me amar porque dariam tudo para ter um poeta penando assim por elas, a mão no queixo, a perna cruzada triste e aquele olhar que não vê. E porque você é a única menina com uma flor que eu conheço, eu escrevi uma canção tão bonita para você, "Minha namorada", a fim de que, quando eu morrer, você, se por acaso não morrer também, fique &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:130%;" &gt;deitadinha abraçada com Nounouse cantando sem voz aquele pedaço que eu digo que você tem de ser a estrela derradeira, minha amiga e companheira, no infinito de nós dois&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;E já que você é uma menina com uma flor e eu estou vendo você subir agora - tão purinha entre as marias-sem-vergonha - a ladeira que traz ao nosso chalé, aqui nessas montanhas recortadas pela mão de Guignard; e o meu coração, como quando você me disse que me amava, põe-se a bater cada vez mais depressa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;E porque eu me levanto para recolher você no meu abraço, e o mato à nossa volta se faz murmuroso e se enche de vaga-lumes enquanto a noite desce com seus segredos, suas mortes, seus espantos - eu sei, ah, eu sei que o meu amor por você é feito de todos os amores que eu já tive, e você é a filha dileta de todas as mulheres que eu amei; e que todas as mulheres que eu amei, como tristes estátuas ao longo da aléia de um jardim noturno, foram passando você de mão em mão até mim, cuspindo no seu rosto e enfrentando a sua fronte de grinaldas; foram passando você até mim entre cantos, súplicas e vociferações -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:130%;" &gt; porque você é linda, porque você é meiga e sobretudo porque você é uma menina com uma flor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;!-- google_ad_section_end --&gt;&lt;!-- google_ad_section_start(weight=ignore) --&gt;               &lt;script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript"&gt;   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src="http://partner.googleadservices.com/gampad/ads?correlator=1212090840343&amp;amp;output=json_html&amp;amp;callback=_GA_googleAdEngine.setAdContentsBySlotForSync&amp;amp;impl=s&amp;amp;prev_afc=1&amp;amp;client=ca-gam-fotolog&amp;amp;slotname=photo_300x250_1_btf&amp;amp;page_slots=photo_728x90_1_atf%2Cphoto_300x250_1_btf&amp;amp;cust_params=Gender%3D2&amp;amp;cookie=ID%3Ddbbb2cbe42cda97e%3AT%3D1210979260%3AS%3DALNI_MYlnlrYS9vZ4HOCYFx0a91ut_JTQQ&amp;amp;ga_vid=1866970811.1210979265&amp;amp;ga_sid=1212087852&amp;amp;ga_hid=1474994194&amp;amp;ga_fc=true&amp;amp;url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.fotolog.com%2Faclumsymelody%2F32084290&amp;amp;ref=http%3A%2F%2Fphoto.fotolog.com%2Farchive%3F%26year%3D2007%26month%3D9%26day%3D24%26v%3Dday&amp;amp;lmt=1212090839&amp;amp;dt=1212090841156&amp;amp;cc=100&amp;amp;color_border=708090&amp;amp;color_bg=708090&amp;amp;color_link=C0C0C0&amp;amp;color_url=C0C0C0&amp;amp;color_text=FFFACD&amp;amp;hl=pt&amp;amp;cust_gender=2&amp;amp;u_h=768&amp;amp;u_w=1024&amp;amp;u_ah=734&amp;amp;u_aw=1024&amp;amp;u_cd=32&amp;amp;u_tz=-180&amp;amp;u_his=50&amp;amp;u_java=true&amp;amp;u_nplug=16&amp;amp;u_nmime=55"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-807859187585802131?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/807859187585802131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=807859187585802131&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/807859187585802131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/807859187585802131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/05/para-uma-menina-com-uma-flor.html' title='para uma Menina com uma Flor'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7900532743720595404</id><published>2008-05-05T15:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T15:13:29.851-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gelada noite inspiradora de sexta'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>...foi quando você me sugeriu uma volta no parque e disse-me que poderiamos nos divertir jogando bolas de neve um no outro, te sugeri o chá mas me convenceu com o chocolate quente acompanhado de churros (doce-de-leite, claro), veriamos as estrelas, você escolheria uma delas e a nomearia 'lilah', assistiriamos ao nascer do sol, conversando durante a madrugada, com ausencia de filmes no drive tru e qualquer outra tecnologia exceto o radinho tocando 'sun comes up', muitos sonhos e risadas na presença do vento de inverno -tao adorado por ti-, aquecidos pelas velhas cobertas xadrez com um único pensamento: nunca te deixar partir :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-7900532743720595404?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7900532743720595404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7900532743720595404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7900532743720595404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7900532743720595404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7972563516986928056</id><published>2008-05-02T18:11:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T18:21:32.551-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='asteriscoosusadosponto'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SBuDm7l-1ZI/AAAAAAAAAtg/t4YtUcIkgEA/s1600-h/je+14995.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SBuDm7l-1ZI/AAAAAAAAAtg/t4YtUcIkgEA/s320/je+14995.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195891299957265810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;is it worth it can you even hear me&lt;br /&gt;standing with your spotlight on me&lt;br /&gt;not enough to feed the hungry&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired and I felt it for awhile now&lt;br /&gt;in this sea of lonely&lt;br /&gt;the taste of ink is getting old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; it's four o' clock in the fucking morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;each day gets more and more like the last day&lt;br /&gt;still I can see it coming&lt;br /&gt;while I'm standing in the river drowning&lt;br /&gt;this could be my chance to break out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; this could be my chance to say goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at last it's finally over&lt;br /&gt;couldn't take this town much longer&lt;br /&gt;being half dead wasn't what I planned to be&lt;br /&gt;now I'm ready to be free&lt;br /&gt;so here I am it's in my hands&lt;br /&gt;and I'll savor every moment of this&lt;br /&gt;so here I am alive at last&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; and I'll savor every moment of this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and won't you think I'm pretty&lt;br /&gt;when I'm standing top the bright lit city&lt;br /&gt;and I'll take your hand and pick you up&lt;br /&gt;and keep you there so you can see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; as long as you're alive and care&lt;br /&gt;I promise I will take you there&lt;br /&gt;we'll drink and dance the night away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;(LL)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/38037745-7972563516986928056?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7972563516986928056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7972563516986928056&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7972563516986928056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7972563516986928056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/05/is-it-worth-it-can-you-even-hear-me.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/SBuDm7l-1ZI/AAAAAAAAAtg/t4YtUcIkgEA/s72-c/je+14995.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-7454523545473651029</id><published>2008-04-11T20:17:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T20:19:10.459-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='asteriscooslibertinosponto'/><title type='text'>I no longer hear the music</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/R__x4nhqoMI/AAAAAAAAAsc/Szil0EQmlwc/s1600-h/S7307204.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/R__x4nhqoMI/AAAAAAAAAsc/Szil0EQmlwc/s320/S7307204.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188131250739257538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bem, é cruel ou educado, não dizer o que eu penso&lt;br /&gt;e mentir pra você em vez de te magoar&lt;br /&gt;bem, eu confesso todos os meus pecados depois varias doses de gim&lt;br /&gt;mas eu ainda vou esconder de você&lt;br /&gt;e esconder o que esta por dentro, de você&lt;br /&gt;e os alarmes de sinos soam quando você diz que seu coração ainda canta, quando você está comigo&lt;br /&gt;oh, querido por favor me perdoe mas eu não consigo mais escutar a musica&lt;br /&gt;e todas a lembranças dos bares e os clubes (...) que nós dividimos juntos vao ficar comigo pra sempre&lt;br /&gt;mas todos os altos e baixos e os pró e contras me deixaram confusa&lt;br /&gt;oh, por favor você não vai me perdoar? mas eu não consigo mais escutar a musica&lt;br /&gt;eu não consigo mais escutar a musica quando as luzes se apagam&lt;br /&gt;o amor esfria nas sombras da dúvida, o rosto estranho na minha mente está claro demais, música quando as luzes se vão&lt;br /&gt;o garoto que eu achava que conhecia se foi e com ele meu coração desapareceu mas eu não consigo mais escutar a musica&lt;br /&gt;e todas as lembranças das noites e das lutas debaixo de luzes azuis e todas as pipas nós voamos juntos. o amor pensou que voariamos pra sempre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu não consigo mais escutar a musica;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-7454523545473651029?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/7454523545473651029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=7454523545473651029&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7454523545473651029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/7454523545473651029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-no-longer-hear-music.html' title='I no longer hear the music'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/R__x4nhqoMI/AAAAAAAAAsc/Szil0EQmlwc/s72-c/S7307204.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-8941811099653330023</id><published>2008-03-28T15:46:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T15:51:02.841-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a song that no one sings'/><title type='text'>the unattainable</title><content type='html'>he is everything to me&lt;br /&gt;the unrequited dream&lt;br /&gt;a song that no one sings&lt;br /&gt;the unattainable&lt;br /&gt;he's a myth that I have to believe in&lt;br /&gt;all I need to make it real is one more reason&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do,&lt;br /&gt;when he makes me sad.&lt;br /&gt;but I won't let this build up inside of me&lt;br /&gt;a catch in my throat.. choke,&lt;br /&gt;torn into pieces&lt;br /&gt;I won't, no. I don't want to be this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I won't let this build up inside of me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-8941811099653330023?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/8941811099653330023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=8941811099653330023&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8941811099653330023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/8941811099653330023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/03/unattainable.html' title='the unattainable'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-3768906043491915761</id><published>2008-03-27T14:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T14:31:58.605-03:00</updated><title type='text'>ks;</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/R-vZ7KdhkTI/AAAAAAAAArw/k8GgCrjm_xc/s1600-h/asdasde2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/R-vZ7KdhkTI/AAAAAAAAArw/k8GgCrjm_xc/s320/asdasde2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182475406663586098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I go around a time or two&lt;br /&gt;just to waste my time with you&lt;br /&gt;find out games you don't wanna play&lt;br /&gt;you are the only one that needs to know&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38037745-3768906043491915761?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/3768906043491915761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=3768906043491915761&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3768906043491915761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/3768906043491915761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/03/ks.html' title='ks;'/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/R-vZ7KdhkTI/AAAAAAAAArw/k8GgCrjm_xc/s72-c/asdasde2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38037745.post-1001545005240679910</id><published>2008-03-17T15:10:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T15:12:27.334-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/R960OMSuI4I/AAAAAAAAArc/ZnR_N8sbCl0/s1600-h/Foto-0365.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/R960OMSuI4I/AAAAAAAAArc/ZnR_N8sbCl0/s320/Foto-0365.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178774777433564034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;s&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;iii&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;♡&lt;/span&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/38037745-1001545005240679910?l=unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/feeds/1001545005240679910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38037745&amp;postID=1001545005240679910&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1001545005240679910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38037745/posts/default/1001545005240679910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unwaantedmemories.blogspot.com/2008/03/s-iii.html' title=''/><author><name>jess.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06368588152615616130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/TBGhk3aLBMI/AAAAAAAABSA/aFrkqdjoriQ/S220/dje+linda+(33).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u0N5kTBYlLs/R960OMSuI4I/AAAAAAAAArc/ZnR_N8sbCl0/s72-c/Foto-0365.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
