<?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-18709385</id><updated>2012-02-16T08:36:11.948-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Por mim tudo bem...</title><subtitle type='html'>Mas não sei dizer o que acontece comigo toda vez que sinto a garganta dar mil piruetas no céu da minha boca.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-614587961388916081</id><published>2008-11-24T22:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T22:31:18.168-04:00</updated><title type='text'>10ª Piruetas e mentiras - Danças Desmedidas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SStjBE0JTVI/AAAAAAAAATE/CX01nQOJo2s/s1600-h/Medium_67200612836PM_Pina%20Bausch%20Dance%20Company,%201984,%20Los%20Angeles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272416658890771794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 269px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SStjBE0JTVI/AAAAAAAAATE/CX01nQOJo2s/s400/Medium_67200612836PM_Pina%2520Bausch%2520Dance%2520Company,%25201984,%2520Los%2520Angeles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Portas abertas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dias guardados nas mangas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Horas amanhecidas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Que viram tardes, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Noites,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Alvas noites&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ditas e repetidas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Em todas as linguas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Todas as pátrias,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Todas as saídas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Todas as chegadas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As roupas penduradas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nos varais,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Os pés descalsos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As mãos abertas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Os olhos suspensos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Insuspeitas vozes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não ditas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ditas improváveis,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sibilares&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Guardam nomes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Abraços,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Regalos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sísmicos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-614587961388916081?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/614587961388916081/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=614587961388916081' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/614587961388916081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/614587961388916081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2008/11/10-piruetas-e-mentiras-danas-desmedidas.html' title='10ª Piruetas e mentiras - Danças Desmedidas'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SStjBE0JTVI/AAAAAAAAATE/CX01nQOJo2s/s72-c/Medium_67200612836PM_Pina%2520Bausch%2520Dance%2520Company,%25201984,%2520Los%2520Angeles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-8715725295452103968</id><published>2008-10-31T00:08:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T00:38:18.268-04:00</updated><title type='text'>9ª Piruetas e mentiras - Bem perto da beirada da memória</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SQqLQMVZrlI/AAAAAAAAARc/UzaF8AWehc4/s1600-h/RueCler.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263172224841002578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 248px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SQqLQMVZrlI/AAAAAAAAARc/UzaF8AWehc4/s400/RueCler.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Quem voa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;voa se quiser voar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Quem deixa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;deixa se quiser deixar.&lt;br /&gt;Você está tentando entender demais.&lt;br /&gt;Já são duas da manhã.&lt;br /&gt;As coisas vão e voltam....&lt;br /&gt;Você precisa saber demais.&lt;br /&gt;Eu continuo delirando...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E você procurando respostas.&lt;br /&gt;Tá tudo tão limpinho agora.&lt;br /&gt;É tudo feito de casca e asfalto.&lt;br /&gt;E eu ando meio bêbado.&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando jogando palavras sem rumo&lt;br /&gt;No papel do tempo....&lt;br /&gt;As coisas não tem volta.&lt;br /&gt;Elas sempre continuam indo.&lt;br /&gt;Não vou voar nem dizer nada.&lt;br /&gt;Meu português é clarinho...&lt;br /&gt;Quem perde perde o que tem.&lt;br /&gt;Vai ser só eu conversando sozinho&lt;br /&gt;Quando você resolver sair&lt;br /&gt;E desistir de tudo.&lt;br /&gt;Vai me proibir de ir na escola?&lt;br /&gt;Vai me proibir de conversar com meus amigos?&lt;br /&gt;Vai me mandar embora do espetáculo?&lt;br /&gt;O espetáculo nunca acaba.&lt;br /&gt;Cansados.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não entendo nada.&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou morrer sozinho.&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou morrer cantando.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou tão magrinho.&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou caber sim.&lt;br /&gt;Câmbio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-8715725295452103968?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/8715725295452103968/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=8715725295452103968' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/8715725295452103968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/8715725295452103968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2008/10/9-piruetas-e-mentiras-bem-perto-da.html' title='9ª Piruetas e mentiras - Bem perto da beirada da memória'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SQqLQMVZrlI/AAAAAAAAARc/UzaF8AWehc4/s72-c/RueCler.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-1041815312632351996</id><published>2008-10-22T20:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T21:00:37.933-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8ª Piruetas e mentiras - Quase perdi o final da tarde</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SP_MsuHVRHI/AAAAAAAAARU/dfzBz3R8mdk/s1600-h/Anita%2520Ekberg%2520019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260147958457123954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SP_MsuHVRHI/AAAAAAAAARU/dfzBz3R8mdk/s400/Anita%2520Ekberg%2520019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Todas as entradas.&lt;br /&gt;Estradas, cinemas, valetes.&lt;br /&gt;Todas as lembranças&lt;br /&gt;Num amontoado de preguiça,&lt;br /&gt;Cheiro de canela e Sol.&lt;br /&gt;Ignoro meus achismos e outros ismos&lt;br /&gt;Que não me canso de pagear.&lt;br /&gt;Agora faço força pra ficar acordado.&lt;br /&gt;Não faço as pazes, não deixo recados, não peço desculpas,&lt;br /&gt;Não improviso mais.&lt;br /&gt;Minto.&lt;br /&gt;Essa é a mais pura verdade.&lt;br /&gt;Deixar Maria em pânico,&lt;br /&gt;Deixar Smith com ódio,&lt;br /&gt;Não deixar de me divertir com as bobagens&lt;br /&gt;Que persigo.&lt;br /&gt;Seduzir aquela mulher,&lt;br /&gt;todas elas,&lt;br /&gt;amar todas elas.&lt;br /&gt;Fellini, eu&lt;br /&gt;e os Cineastas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-1041815312632351996?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/1041815312632351996/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=1041815312632351996' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/1041815312632351996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/1041815312632351996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2008/10/8-piruetas-e-mentiras-quase-perdi-o.html' title='8ª Piruetas e mentiras - Quase perdi o final da tarde'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SP_MsuHVRHI/AAAAAAAAARU/dfzBz3R8mdk/s72-c/Anita%2520Ekberg%2520019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-8081572321903585677</id><published>2008-09-22T23:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T23:49:41.484-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7ª Piruetas e mentiras - Antes de dormir</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SNhnRTTB6iI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/GE4_Oi8tbIs/s1600-h/saudek.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249058912635841058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SNhnRTTB6iI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/GE4_Oi8tbIs/s320/saudek.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Medo, medo, medo,&lt;br /&gt;32 vezes medo.&lt;br /&gt;A tempestade, o colo antigo, o medo,&lt;br /&gt;O quarto escuro, a porta entreaberta,&lt;br /&gt;A fresta, a luz, o medo.&lt;br /&gt;Vozes tão distantes, a festa, a chuva,&lt;br /&gt;A cama estranha, passos, passos,&lt;br /&gt;Passos, passos, o medo.&lt;br /&gt;Olhos entre cobertos, o pensamento, o ar rarefeito,&lt;br /&gt;O apagar, o adormecer, o pesadelo, o medo,&lt;br /&gt;O medo, o medo.&lt;br /&gt;Amanhã como será, será que é ou&lt;br /&gt;Foi só num piscar que tudo fez-se assim,&lt;br /&gt;O que será de mim, o que virá,&lt;br /&gt;Como sentir, fechar, fechar, nunca&lt;br /&gt;Mais abrir, o medo, o medo, o tempo.&lt;br /&gt;Ontem já foi o que amanhã será,&lt;br /&gt;Será que é ou é defeito,&lt;br /&gt;O que foi feito daquela manhã,&lt;br /&gt;O medo, o medo, o medo.&lt;br /&gt;Chorar, chorar, chorar, do que adianta,&lt;br /&gt;A água, o sal, o medo.&lt;br /&gt;Mentir, matar, o gozo pleno,&lt;br /&gt;O permanecer atento, o coração, o coração,&lt;br /&gt;O medo.&lt;br /&gt;Medo, medo, medo, medo,&lt;br /&gt;Minha raiva, meu sorriso, a solidão,&lt;br /&gt;O meu desejo, o meu delírio, a minha voz,&lt;br /&gt;O meu segredo, o medo, o medo, o medo,&lt;br /&gt;A câimbra, a chama, a sentinela, o medo,&lt;br /&gt;O meu apego, o meu chinelo, o medo.&lt;br /&gt;Não vai parar, não irá para lá, não vá,&lt;br /&gt;O vento, o som, o sinal, o medo,&lt;br /&gt;O medo, o medo, o medo, o medo.&lt;br /&gt;Há tempestades, há festa, haverá&lt;br /&gt;O medo.&lt;br /&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/18709385-8081572321903585677?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/8081572321903585677/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=8081572321903585677' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/8081572321903585677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/8081572321903585677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2008/09/7-piruetas-e-mentiras-antes-de-dormir.html' title='7ª Piruetas e mentiras - Antes de dormir'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SNhnRTTB6iI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/GE4_Oi8tbIs/s72-c/saudek.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-4677137655401317332</id><published>2008-08-18T23:56:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T08:33:31.832-04:00</updated><title type='text'>6ª Piruetas e mentiras - Ser idéias, escolhas, miragens e outras coisas aquáticas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SKwPDbQHhMI/AAAAAAAAAPw/B_-t-NXxm94/s1600-h/ten%2520chi%2520-%2520foto_Jochen_Viehoff.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236577018254427330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SKwPDbQHhMI/AAAAAAAAAPw/B_-t-NXxm94/s320/ten%2520chi%2520-%2520foto_Jochen_Viehoff.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aéreo submarino a sobrevoar sereias.&lt;br /&gt;Emergir, submergir libélulas,&lt;br /&gt;Lulas feito helicópteros.&lt;br /&gt;Corais, carcaças de aviões naufragados,&lt;br /&gt;Fragatas, galeras em pleno ar.&lt;br /&gt;São raras&lt;br /&gt;Lágrimas de Kamikazes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-4677137655401317332?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/4677137655401317332/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=4677137655401317332' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/4677137655401317332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/4677137655401317332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2008/08/7-piruetas-e-mentiras-ser-idias.html' title='6ª Piruetas e mentiras - Ser idéias, escolhas, miragens e outras coisas aquáticas'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SKwPDbQHhMI/AAAAAAAAAPw/B_-t-NXxm94/s72-c/ten%2520chi%2520-%2520foto_Jochen_Viehoff.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-6474413830396710249</id><published>2008-07-25T00:44:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T01:00:19.405-04:00</updated><title type='text'>5ª Piruetas e mentiras - Deixa. O que eu quero dizer é vontade de existir dentro de você</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SIldMwSLD8I/AAAAAAAAAL8/CkFMgpexEww/s1600-h/moon3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226811316241108930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SIldMwSLD8I/AAAAAAAAAL8/CkFMgpexEww/s320/moon3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Você e eu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;atravessamos a madrugada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;do dia em que te vi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;e agora&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;quando a aurora&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nos manda embora&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pra casa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nossa casa é qualquer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;esquina, nossa cama,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;essa semana,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nossa história&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nunca foi tão veloz,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nunca tão feliz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Você eu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;atravessaremos a praça.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Seu corpo, cartão postal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;das minhas palpebras.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A minha palavra foi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;feita pra te seguir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;daqui até você.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Você é minha mulher.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Você é você.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu sou você, o mesmo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sol, a mesma Lua&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;andando na mesma rua&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;até o dia amanhecer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Você e eu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;atravessando a cidade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;daqui até Paris, São Paulo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tokio, Teerã.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Quando a manhã,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;o café da manhã,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;o dia de amanhã&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Amalgamar essa saudade,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Essa viagem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E nós.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;25/07/08&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-6474413830396710249?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/6474413830396710249/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=6474413830396710249' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/6474413830396710249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/6474413830396710249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2008/07/5-piruetas-e-mentiras-deixa-o-que-eu.html' title='5ª Piruetas e mentiras - Deixa. O que eu quero dizer é vontade de existir dentro de você'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SIldMwSLD8I/AAAAAAAAAL8/CkFMgpexEww/s72-c/moon3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-9094147540609730913</id><published>2008-06-13T23:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T23:29:53.754-05:00</updated><title type='text'>4ª Piruetas e mentiras - Do lado de cá onde tudo é meio verde e saudade.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SFNJDs6GjkI/AAAAAAAAALs/qV2QK4eaLp8/s1600-h/falta-um-pouco-de-vermelho.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211589521741090370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SFNJDs6GjkI/AAAAAAAAALs/qV2QK4eaLp8/s400/falta-um-pouco-de-vermelho.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Uma saudade vermelha.&lt;br /&gt;E era sonho todo o tempo gasto pensando na cor.&lt;br /&gt;Mas Brasília é tão distante quanto eu andando por ai.&lt;br /&gt;Você vai se lembrar de mim quando a cortina se abrir na sua frente pela primeira vez.&lt;br /&gt;Quantos nomes possíveis poderemos ter ainda?&lt;br /&gt;Quantos verbos imperceptíveis usamos num abraço?&lt;br /&gt;A ultima vez que te vi faz 300 anos.&lt;br /&gt;E era sonho todo o tempo gasto pensando na cor.&lt;br /&gt;Uma saudade vermelha.&lt;br /&gt;Mando meus sapatos.&lt;br /&gt;Me dá seu endereço.&lt;br /&gt;Escreve numa camiseta branca o seu nome.&lt;br /&gt;Manda beijo.&lt;br /&gt;E era sim uma saudade vermelha&lt;br /&gt;Como nos mapas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-9094147540609730913?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/9094147540609730913/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=9094147540609730913' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/9094147540609730913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/9094147540609730913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2008/06/4-piruetas-e-mentiras-do-lado-de-c-onde.html' title='4ª Piruetas e mentiras - Do lado de cá onde tudo é meio verde e saudade.'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SFNJDs6GjkI/AAAAAAAAALs/qV2QK4eaLp8/s72-c/falta-um-pouco-de-vermelho.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-83035358100090477</id><published>2008-05-26T17:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T17:47:41.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>3ª Piruetas e mentiras - O que mais eles disseram naquela manhã que deixei escapar entre os dedos?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SDs93s8gXII/AAAAAAAAALM/j8Ou2pAcp0Y/s1600-h/basquiat_gallery_20.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204821821523778690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SDs93s8gXII/AAAAAAAAALM/j8Ou2pAcp0Y/s400/basquiat_gallery_20.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E era só dizer Sim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E tudo virou começo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo antes do fim,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;antes e depois do avesso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o dia amanhecia em peso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azul feito palma da mão aberta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os corpos não amanheceriam tão cedo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sim no chão frio,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sim na descoberta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que cobria todo o silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e era um grande segredo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não dizer que era&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e ser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E era só dizer Sim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E disseram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26/05/08&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/18709385-83035358100090477?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/83035358100090477/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=83035358100090477' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/83035358100090477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/83035358100090477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2008/05/3-piruetas-e-mentiras-o-que-mais-eles.html' title='3ª Piruetas e mentiras - O que mais eles disseram naquela manhã que deixei escapar entre os dedos?'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/SDs93s8gXII/AAAAAAAAALM/j8Ou2pAcp0Y/s72-c/basquiat_gallery_20.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-8658022437886504242</id><published>2008-01-15T20:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T20:19:59.574-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2ª Piruetas e mentiras - Nada fica distante.Nada faz sentido.Tudo resvala na solidão.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/R41a11rqF8I/AAAAAAAAAJE/uj0RR9GwhYY/s1600-h/Eu+sou+o+fantasma+que+vaga+na+casa+do+tempo+c%C3%B3pia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155877029398845378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="214" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/R41a11rqF8I/AAAAAAAAAJE/uj0RR9GwhYY/s400/Eu+sou+o+fantasma+que+vaga+na+casa+do+tempo+c%C3%B3pia.jpg" width="506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/18709385-8658022437886504242?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/8658022437886504242/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=8658022437886504242' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/8658022437886504242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/8658022437886504242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2008/01/2-piruetas-e-mentiras-nada-fica.html' title='2ª Piruetas e mentiras - Nada fica distante.Nada faz sentido.Tudo resvala na solidão.'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/R41a11rqF8I/AAAAAAAAAJE/uj0RR9GwhYY/s72-c/Eu+sou+o+fantasma+que+vaga+na+casa+do+tempo+c%C3%B3pia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-4028546058807431882</id><published>2007-12-16T21:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T22:07:39.615-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1ª Piruetas e mentiras - Voltas e velas (ou como aprendi a deixar o azul sempre do lado de dentro da mirada dos meus olhos)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/R2XmylrqFwI/AAAAAAAAAGc/wbaSeKUvCjA/s1600-h/rousseau-1897x.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144771906123732738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/R2XmylrqFwI/AAAAAAAAAGc/wbaSeKUvCjA/s320/rousseau-1897x.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;mar aberto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;outras voltas, outras velas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;olhos de abrir paisagem,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;dias de comer estradas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;horas soltas sobre os livros de história.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pra que tanto verde se essa saudade só persiste?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eu desisto de esperar o resultado da lei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;deixo aguada minha vontade de abraços,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;abraços deixados na plataforma G da rodoviária.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;fico ilhado entre verbos, pronomes, milhares de páginas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;em branco.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;colorir é pestanejar traçando luz contra luz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;um par.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-4028546058807431882?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/4028546058807431882/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=4028546058807431882' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/4028546058807431882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/4028546058807431882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2007/12/1-piruetas-e-mentiras-voltas-e-velas-ou.html' title='1ª Piruetas e mentiras - Voltas e velas (ou como aprendi a deixar o azul sempre do lado de dentro da mirada dos meus olhos)'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/R2XmylrqFwI/AAAAAAAAAGc/wbaSeKUvCjA/s72-c/rousseau-1897x.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-1494054085750313140</id><published>2007-09-18T08:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T09:00:36.615-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10ª Pirueta - Azul</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Ru_ZymJ2eoI/AAAAAAAAAGU/tfVDq5wefWk/s1600-h/03-21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111543565347355266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Ru_ZymJ2eoI/AAAAAAAAAGU/tfVDq5wefWk/s400/03-21.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Esperar, esperar,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;acenar prum momento,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;tentar achar a chave,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;fisgar o tempo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;e mergulhar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mergulhar sem tempo de respirar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aquela hora em que você decide&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;se vira pedra ou vira peixe,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;se cria limo ou cria escamas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E tudo ficou todo azul.&lt;/div&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/18709385-1494054085750313140?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/1494054085750313140/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=1494054085750313140' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/1494054085750313140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/1494054085750313140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2007/09/10-pirueta-azul.html' title='10ª Pirueta - Azul'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Ru_ZymJ2eoI/AAAAAAAAAGU/tfVDq5wefWk/s72-c/03-21.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-1177883214804087155</id><published>2007-09-12T09:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T09:56:49.783-05:00</updated><title type='text'>9ª Pirueta - Alice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Ruf-HGJ2elI/AAAAAAAAAF0/qCzAGQnnnEM/s1600-h/jules+e+jim.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109331700139588178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Ruf-HGJ2elI/AAAAAAAAAF0/qCzAGQnnnEM/s400/jules+e+jim.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Ruf96GJ2ekI/AAAAAAAAAFs/arifFPlr2Z8/s1600-h/jules+e+jim.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Reza a lenda que Alice,&lt;br /&gt;Não aquela,&lt;br /&gt;Outra bem mais festa&lt;br /&gt;E louca e descortinada,&lt;br /&gt;Um dia fez a cidade cambalear&lt;br /&gt;De puro desejo, magia, medo,&lt;br /&gt;E 12 dozes de Red Label sem gelo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alice, sim, a deusa, à beira do abismo.&lt;br /&gt;Chutando o tempo prum bueiro,&lt;br /&gt;O cigarro guardado dentro do seio esquerdo,&lt;br /&gt;E todas as amigas longe, óculos escuros&lt;br /&gt;Em plena noite, gays, garis e policiais,&lt;br /&gt;Cascatas de risos falsos na praça.&lt;br /&gt;Quem dera fosse Cincinnati no jornal nacional.&lt;br /&gt;Ela passou por cima, mandou a merda e só sobreviveu&lt;br /&gt;Porque era feita de sonho.&lt;br /&gt;Sonho e solidão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois os botecos do centro.&lt;br /&gt;Os sobreviventes de outras eras,&lt;br /&gt;Estudantes, mães e vadios,&lt;br /&gt;A cidade aberta feito uma flor.&lt;br /&gt;Acabou a bebida, Alice não alivia.&lt;br /&gt;Arrasta minha carcaça pela cidade,&lt;br /&gt;O carro quase sem gasolina,&lt;br /&gt;Eu sem cocaína desde à tarde.&lt;br /&gt;Já não penso em trepar com ela.&lt;br /&gt;Alice quer que eu veja, que eu seja sincero.&lt;br /&gt;Eu só quero que meus pés parem de doer,&lt;br /&gt;Quero levá-la pra casa, quero Alice na minha cama.&lt;br /&gt;Ela não vai deixar a noite assim tão fácil,&lt;br /&gt;Minhas mãos estão dormentes,&lt;br /&gt;Ela não pára.&lt;br /&gt;Dispara em mim aquele olhar doente e diz:&lt;br /&gt;-Você não viu Jules e Jim. Não me aborreça.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reza a lenda que Alice,&lt;br /&gt;Não essa,&lt;br /&gt;Outra bem mais dentro&lt;br /&gt;E moda e atualizada,&lt;br /&gt;Um dia me fez pular&lt;br /&gt;Do quinto andar do meu apartamento&lt;br /&gt;Já não era sem tempo.&lt;br /&gt;Deus, deus? Surpreenda-me&lt;br /&gt;Ou desapareça antes do fim da queda.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alice me espera na esquina.&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/18709385-1177883214804087155?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/1177883214804087155/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=1177883214804087155' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/1177883214804087155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/1177883214804087155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2007/09/9-pirueta-alice.html' title='9ª Pirueta - Alice'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Ruf-HGJ2elI/AAAAAAAAAF0/qCzAGQnnnEM/s72-c/jules+e+jim.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-745297278198912886</id><published>2007-07-16T17:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T17:57:15.106-05:00</updated><title type='text'>8ª Pirueta - Apenas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Rpv3JDNYPKI/AAAAAAAAAEc/KktE-DR7rkw/s1600-h/01-06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087931938897411234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Rpv3JDNYPKI/AAAAAAAAAEc/KktE-DR7rkw/s400/01-06.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.saudek.com/en/jan/fotografie.html?r=2006-2010&amp;typ=f&amp;amp;amp;amp;l=0&amp;amp;f=686"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sabendo cada vez menos sobre esses espaços&lt;br /&gt;guardados dentro da alma, desses que não tem recheio,&lt;br /&gt;não tem tampa,nada, eu sigo esses dias segurando um choro&lt;br /&gt;que não é choro.&lt;br /&gt;segurando,sorrindo, os dentes serrados, acenando sem destino,&lt;br /&gt;emprestando meu lugar aos outros, correndo feito locomotiva,&lt;br /&gt;milhares de vagões são meus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas ontem, enquanto acenava pra você e talvez antes&lt;br /&gt;quando dizia: Calma, tudo se resolve...&lt;br /&gt;acho que menti.&lt;br /&gt;Não pra você...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas antes de mentir te beijei longamente, bem longe&lt;br /&gt;dos homens, bem distante mesmo dessas cores que a cidade&lt;br /&gt;insiste em colorir a madrugada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Éramos de uma hora para outra&lt;br /&gt;a luz que encheu os espaços da alma.&lt;br /&gt;o som, beijos apaixonados, encontros com cheiro de terra&lt;br /&gt;e sal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16/07/07&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/18709385-745297278198912886?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/745297278198912886/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=745297278198912886' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/745297278198912886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/745297278198912886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2007/07/8-pirueta.html' title='8ª Pirueta - Apenas'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Rpv3JDNYPKI/AAAAAAAAAEc/KktE-DR7rkw/s72-c/01-06.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-473648412497981260</id><published>2007-06-26T00:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T00:33:49.361-05:00</updated><title type='text'>7ª Pirueta - Dança</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/RoCk_f3V4ZI/AAAAAAAAACE/ISGL7WbaTgw/s1600-h/gustav_klimt_lebensbaum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080241790466253202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/RoCk_f3V4ZI/AAAAAAAAACE/ISGL7WbaTgw/s400/gustav_klimt_lebensbaum.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não passa,&lt;br /&gt;Não deixa recado,&lt;br /&gt;Não me lembro muito bem como&lt;br /&gt;Ela era.&lt;br /&gt;Era uma espera,&lt;br /&gt;O verso rápido&lt;br /&gt;Feito de passo e anca,&lt;br /&gt;Pássaro e samba,&lt;br /&gt;Verde, vermelho, azul.&lt;br /&gt;Parceira de horas antes,&lt;br /&gt;Pés descalços,&lt;br /&gt;Brâmanas védicos,&lt;br /&gt;Posse dos meus olhos&lt;br /&gt;Naquela noite em que&lt;br /&gt;Amanhecemos dançando.&lt;br /&gt;Nós e a cidade inteira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adormecer,&lt;br /&gt;Firmar os pés no sonho,&lt;br /&gt;Na cor.&lt;br /&gt;Abrir os olhos deixando a luz&lt;br /&gt;Entrar e nutrir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu, Arjuna.&lt;br /&gt;Meu arco Gandiva dispara.&lt;br /&gt;Enfrento os exércitos,&lt;br /&gt;Venço a batalha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não canto por que&lt;br /&gt;Não mereço.&lt;br /&gt;Ouço o dia clarear enquanto ela&lt;br /&gt;Dança.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;A dança é o timbre dela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26/06/07 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-473648412497981260?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/473648412497981260/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=473648412497981260' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/473648412497981260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/473648412497981260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2007/06/7-pirueta-dana.html' title='7ª Pirueta - Dança'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/RoCk_f3V4ZI/AAAAAAAAACE/ISGL7WbaTgw/s72-c/gustav_klimt_lebensbaum.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-4810042484104703595</id><published>2007-04-13T12:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T12:54:41.364-05:00</updated><title type='text'>6ª Pirueta - Coisa-tudo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Rh_DXAYL1tI/AAAAAAAAABM/hlk_7huUOYU/s1600-h/superviva.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052972106938832594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Rh_DXAYL1tI/AAAAAAAAABM/hlk_7huUOYU/s320/superviva.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;não tenho forças pra imaginar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;acendo um cigarro atrás do outro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;deixo sedimentar os olhares, os zumbidos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;dessa música que tem sangue e saudade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;na verdade sou eu de sangue e saudade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Superviva! será coisa-tudo e além de tudo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;será.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;13/04/07&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-4810042484104703595?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/4810042484104703595/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=4810042484104703595' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/4810042484104703595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/4810042484104703595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2007/04/6-pirueta-coisa-tudo.html' title='6ª Pirueta - Coisa-tudo'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/Rh_DXAYL1tI/AAAAAAAAABM/hlk_7huUOYU/s72-c/superviva.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-5410119535660637795</id><published>2007-03-21T14:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T14:33:11.108-05:00</updated><title type='text'>5ª Pirueta - Em todas as direções</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/RgGIY-6Mp6I/AAAAAAAAABA/B42LN_8RUZk/s1600-h/59-02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044463020417001378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/RgGIY-6Mp6I/AAAAAAAAABA/B42LN_8RUZk/s400/59-02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Porque assombrar meu temperamento&lt;br /&gt;Abrir feridas, alimentar desilusões?&lt;br /&gt;Era mais fácil,&lt;br /&gt;Bem mais fácil me deixar florir,&lt;br /&gt;Ir além do fim do dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque se atrapalhar com as correntes&lt;br /&gt;Que te amarram os pés, que te rangem os dentes?&lt;br /&gt;Porque atravessar o jardim com o olhar doente?&lt;br /&gt;Porque não depois?&lt;br /&gt;Deixa o tempo acompanhar os acontecimentos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez reagir.&lt;br /&gt;As mãos acenando prum lugar menos árido.&lt;br /&gt;Escreva um recado num passo de tango&lt;br /&gt;E veja o dia amanhecer&lt;br /&gt;Em todas as direções.&lt;br /&gt;Amanhecer como que por divertimento&lt;br /&gt;Em todas as direções&lt;br /&gt;Até esquecer de nós.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21/03/2007&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-5410119535660637795?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/5410119535660637795/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=5410119535660637795' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/5410119535660637795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/5410119535660637795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2007/03/5-pirueta-em-todas-as-direes.html' title='5ª Pirueta - Em todas as direções'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/RgGIY-6Mp6I/AAAAAAAAABA/B42LN_8RUZk/s72-c/59-02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-401160582022294981</id><published>2007-03-05T20:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T20:28:52.448-05:00</updated><title type='text'>4ª Pirueta - Colorir, colorido</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/RezDs9-8eyI/AAAAAAAAAA4/F5QngjeSCXM/s1600-h/discos+coloridos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038617260440976162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/RezDs9-8eyI/AAAAAAAAAA4/F5QngjeSCXM/s400/discos+coloridos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Remendo os dias&lt;br /&gt;um a um&lt;br /&gt;semanas de desprezo e linha&lt;br /&gt;a linha que elimina desejos, coisas frias&lt;br /&gt;o sentimento nas entrelinhas&lt;br /&gt;a procurada,&lt;br /&gt;a desejada,&lt;br /&gt;falta de sossego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não, não esqueça,&lt;br /&gt;eu tenho medo.&lt;br /&gt;e sinto frio.&lt;br /&gt;eu tenho medo&lt;br /&gt;fica aqui comigo.&lt;br /&gt;eu tenho medo&lt;br /&gt;e sinto frio.&lt;br /&gt;fica aqui comigo.&lt;br /&gt;não se esqueça.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Outros dias embrulhados pra presente,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;palmas, muitas palmas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Colados com os dedos e coloridos com giz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;mas, antes distantes, hoje são meu pão com manteiga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oremos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Luiz Rocha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;05/03/07&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/18709385-401160582022294981?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/401160582022294981/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=401160582022294981' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/401160582022294981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/401160582022294981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2007/03/4-pirueta-colorir-colorido.html' title='4ª Pirueta - Colorir, colorido'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2v-XRik_bk4/RezDs9-8eyI/AAAAAAAAAA4/F5QngjeSCXM/s72-c/discos+coloridos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-116526520709388817</id><published>2006-12-04T15:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T15:48:47.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>3ª Pirueta - Forma</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1665/1718/1600/943881/BASQuntitled%20head.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/1665/1718/320/118357/BASQuntitled%2520head.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mora na hora errada&lt;br /&gt;Morre na hora aurora&lt;br /&gt;Rola na hora limo&lt;br /&gt;Morra na hora agora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barro na hora loca&lt;br /&gt;Corre na hora fora&lt;br /&gt;Fere na hora corta&lt;br /&gt;Filme na hora escura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cura na hora enferma&lt;br /&gt;Forte na hora fraca&lt;br /&gt;Fraco na hora força&lt;br /&gt;Farsa na hora falsa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firme na hora fole&lt;br /&gt;Fome na hora some&lt;br /&gt;Farpa na hora salta&lt;br /&gt;Fama na hora feia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-116526520709388817?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/116526520709388817/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=116526520709388817' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/116526520709388817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/116526520709388817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/12/3-pirueta-forma.html' title='3ª Pirueta - Forma'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-115337001733785004</id><published>2006-07-19T23:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T23:52:51.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2ª Pirueta - Toda noite</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/Schiele33.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/320/Schiele33.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;ela entra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;sempre de madrugada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;e se deita&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;aos pés da nossa cama.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;ela entra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;pela janela aberta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;e se deita&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;por entre as nossas pernas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;sou ele que salta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;por ela eu nem dança.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;você bergamota.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;eu óculos escuros.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;ela mora&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;por sobre a penteadeira.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;ela dorme&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;sobre as nossas roupas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;ela mora&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;no vão entre as garrafas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;ela dorme&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;depois que a gente sonha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;um quarto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;uma gata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;e nós.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-115337001733785004?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/115337001733785004/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=115337001733785004' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/115337001733785004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/115337001733785004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/07/2-pirueta-toda-noite.html' title='2ª Pirueta - Toda noite'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-115031889809794304</id><published>2006-06-14T15:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T16:01:38.113-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1ª Pirueta - Ao lado, aos saltos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/03-07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/400/03-07.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/03-07.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;aprendi do lado errado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ouvindo o certo ao contrário&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;caminhando aos saltos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;rindo, repetindo os hinos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;de uma outra vida inventada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;onde só eu sei como entrar e sair&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;cada dia uma canção.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;outros viram meus aplausos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;quando abri as pálpebras e li&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;palavras que escrevi no meu braço:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Mão, cala essa voz que te condena"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;hoje eu passo as portas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;que se abrem e se fecham&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;e eu abro e fecho meu sorriso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;enquanto passo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;fiquei confuso ou serei eu um eterno&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;braço acenando para o lado escuro dos dias?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-115031889809794304?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/115031889809794304/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=115031889809794304' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/115031889809794304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/115031889809794304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/06/1-pirueta-ao-lado-aos-saltos.html' title='1ª Pirueta - Ao lado, aos saltos'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-114952356505484007</id><published>2006-06-05T10:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T11:06:05.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10ª Mentira -Sobre o dia e o dia anterior</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/Ziegfeld%20Girls_R201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/320/Ziegfeld%20Girls_R201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ele diz:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;havia algo além das entrelinhas...&lt;br /&gt;havia algo além de mensagens subliminares...&lt;br /&gt;havia algo de magia...&lt;br /&gt;havia algo além de quase tudo.&lt;br /&gt;além do sono&lt;br /&gt;era só o desejo&lt;br /&gt;e a poesia....&lt;br /&gt;de amanhecer adormecido do sonho da noite anterior&lt;br /&gt;do dia anterior&lt;br /&gt;da vida anterior &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;viver é um dia claro sem nuvens. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu sei onde procurar&lt;br /&gt;meu passo sincero&lt;br /&gt;no tempo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ela diz:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;havia o mundo além do sono&lt;br /&gt;e do sonho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-114952356505484007?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/114952356505484007/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=114952356505484007' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114952356505484007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114952356505484007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/06/10-mentira-sobre-o-dia-e-o-dia.html' title='10ª Mentira -Sobre o dia e o dia anterior'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-114852354432297056</id><published>2006-05-24T21:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T21:19:04.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>9ª Mentira -Sobre o desconforto e a atenção</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/SM_FallenChild1989_600.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/400/SM_FallenChild1989_600.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não como era.&lt;br /&gt;nunca meu passado.&lt;br /&gt;não faz diferença...&lt;br /&gt;permaneço atento e desconfortável&lt;br /&gt;onde passo e deixo aberta a porta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"-Um pedaço, um pedacinho do seu calor.&lt;br /&gt;-Não, nem um pedacinho,&lt;br /&gt;nem uma fagulha."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Permaneço atento e desconfortável.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“-alguém pode me dizer como&lt;br /&gt;me proteger do acaso?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não queria,&lt;br /&gt;Mas quero.&lt;br /&gt;Eu poderia&lt;br /&gt;E posso.&lt;br /&gt;Mas não tenho&lt;br /&gt;E posso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não quero, eu não quero, eu não quero,&lt;br /&gt;eu não quero, eu não quero, eu não quero,&lt;br /&gt;eu não, quero, eu não, quero, eu quero&lt;br /&gt;e posso.&lt;br /&gt;Posso?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vamos deixar de rodeios,&lt;br /&gt;Vamos?&lt;br /&gt;Vou, mas não quero.&lt;br /&gt;Ladainha, Oh, Deus!&lt;br /&gt;Deus?&lt;br /&gt;Eu não penso.&lt;br /&gt;Penso?&lt;br /&gt;Apaga essa música!&lt;br /&gt;Apaga, apaga, apaga!&lt;br /&gt;Sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;Sorriso?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guardo na voz meu silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;Quero ficar rico e morrer&lt;br /&gt;Bem velhinho.&lt;br /&gt;Quero?&lt;br /&gt;Ignorante, ignorante, ignorante&lt;br /&gt;Eu permaneço atento e desconfortável&lt;br /&gt;E fico em pânico.&lt;br /&gt;E minto, minto, minto, minto....&lt;br /&gt;Minto?&lt;br /&gt;Ágüem disse: fugir.&lt;br /&gt;Mas não fujo.&lt;br /&gt;Finjo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peço ajuda a Deus&lt;br /&gt;Novamente.&lt;br /&gt;Mas deus está sentado do meu lado.&lt;br /&gt;Ele bebe cerveja.&lt;br /&gt;Eu fumo cigarro.&lt;br /&gt;Daí bebo com ele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo mundo sabe demais&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei tanto quanto.&lt;br /&gt;Ouço a palavra mágica&lt;br /&gt;E fico assim:&lt;br /&gt;Eu permaneço atento e desconfortável.&lt;br /&gt;E desconforto.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sinto prazer...&lt;br /&gt;Sinto?&lt;br /&gt;Permaneço sentado.&lt;br /&gt;Beatles, porquê penso neles?&lt;br /&gt;Porque não consigo pensar em&lt;br /&gt;Mais nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67,51,65&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não há vida inteligente&lt;br /&gt;em meu cigarro&lt;br /&gt;mas é o único que me entende.&lt;br /&gt;Entende?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na sétima dobra do guardanapo&lt;br /&gt;Um copo se quebra&lt;br /&gt;Mas ninguém nota.&lt;br /&gt;A nota é 7.&lt;br /&gt;Não me pergunte porquê.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessoas mortas, pessoas mortas, pessoas mortas, pessoas mortas...&lt;br /&gt;Eu só penso em quem está vivo.&lt;br /&gt;Vivo sem saber porquê penso.&lt;br /&gt;A conta será paga.&lt;br /&gt;Vamos embora.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-114852354432297056?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/114852354432297056/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=114852354432297056' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114852354432297056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114852354432297056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/05/9-mentira-sobre-o-desconforto-e-ateno.html' title='9ª Mentira -Sobre o desconforto e a atenção'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-114791664616214568</id><published>2006-05-17T20:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T20:44:06.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>8ª Mentira - Sobre crianças e o futuro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/533.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/320/533.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tenho crianças ao meu redor&lt;br /&gt;E gosto de estar com elas.&lt;br /&gt;Aprendo com elas, elas me dizem o que eu sinto.&lt;br /&gt;Na verdade me passo por uma delas&lt;br /&gt;Só pra estar perto.&lt;br /&gt;Elas me contam como enxergam o mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Eu tento entender se bem que nem precisa.&lt;br /&gt;Elas não precisam.&lt;br /&gt;E hoje eu preciso tanto delas...&lt;br /&gt;Elas estão por toda parte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como será ver por esses olhos que já sabem tudo?&lt;br /&gt;Onde será que eu deixei essa parte que era minha&lt;br /&gt;E eu perdi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se bem que perder o que se teve é reconhecer que&lt;br /&gt;Sabemos bem onde guardamos essas lembranças,&lt;br /&gt;Esses porquês, essa magia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Queria falar de outra coisa hoje, coisas que vivi hoje.&lt;br /&gt;Mas resolvi escrever o que realmente me tocou sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penso pelo meus olhos de criança.&lt;br /&gt;E sei que um dia verei meus filhos.&lt;br /&gt;Daí serei eterno aprendiz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“-Diz pra mim, meu filho, tudo que eu sempre quis saber...”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-114791664616214568?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/114791664616214568/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=114791664616214568' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114791664616214568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114791664616214568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/05/8-mentira-sobre-crianas-e-o-futuro.html' title='8ª Mentira - Sobre crianças e o futuro'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-114744534035146189</id><published>2006-05-12T09:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T09:49:00.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>7ª Mentira - Sobre a Luz e a falta dela</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/Annex%20-%20Brooks,%20Louise_07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/320/Annex%20-%20Brooks%2C%20Louise_07.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Olho pra lua&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;mas não quero olhar a cidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ando pela casa escura.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aprendo a andar no breu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;O silêncio alucina.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fecho a porta do quarto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Abro a porta do quarto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Procuro Alguma luz que não&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;se apaga nunca.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Encontro um abajour no fim da sala.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A lâmpada está queimada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não acende mais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No escuro fica só uma luz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;É a lua.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ela me salva.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A lua me salva.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A cidade incendiada de eletricidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Parecem estrelas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as luzes que se apagam.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Parecem perfeitas à distância.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;O dia amanhece,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;não são mais eternas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A lua se deita.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu me levanto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-114744534035146189?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/114744534035146189/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=114744534035146189' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114744534035146189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114744534035146189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/05/7-mentira-sobre-luz-e-falta-dela.html' title='7ª Mentira - Sobre a Luz e a falta dela'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-114721168852189924</id><published>2006-05-09T16:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T16:54:48.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'>6ª Mentira - Sobre Entardecer e outros sentimentos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/Obraz063.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/320/Obraz063.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu não me acostumo muito bem com as coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez com algumas delas&lt;br /&gt;Ou com muita pouca coisa.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não me acostumo muito bem com coisa alguma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho estudado mais por vontade própria que por descuido&lt;br /&gt;Os efeitos de uma vida só.&lt;br /&gt;Isso me lembra palavras como: sólido, solidão e outras palavras aquáticas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dia desses andando nas ruas fui cumprimentado por todas as crianças com quem cruzei.&lt;br /&gt;Havia algo de mágico, patético ou simplesmente amigo em mim aquele dia ou as&lt;br /&gt;Crianças resolveram me pregar uma peça.&lt;br /&gt;Eu gostei muito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esses dias têm sido dias de entardecer.&lt;br /&gt;Por precaução me agasalho bem e fumo bastante.&lt;br /&gt;Cigarro pra mim é feito ampulheta&lt;br /&gt;Queima o tempo nas duas extremidades.&lt;br /&gt;Não sei dizer ao certo que instrumento de tortura uso pra medir o tempo&lt;br /&gt;Mas meço e isso dói um pouco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apesar das tardes serem inesquecíveis acabo deixando de lado&lt;br /&gt;Certas lembranças que me entristece.&lt;br /&gt;Sentir frio é sinal de respeito e espera.&lt;br /&gt;Isso me lembra palavras como: esperança, espírito e outras palavras circenses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A luz do sol entra pela janela do quarto,&lt;br /&gt;Um quarto que não é meu.&lt;br /&gt;Um quarto que não é de ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;Mas só porque o sol entrou pela janela&lt;br /&gt;Já me sinto aceito&lt;br /&gt;E aceito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ando com sorte.&lt;br /&gt;É...&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando com muita sorte.&lt;br /&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/18709385-114721168852189924?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/114721168852189924/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=114721168852189924' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114721168852189924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114721168852189924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/05/6-mentira-sobre-entardecer-e-outros.html' title='6ª Mentira - Sobre Entardecer e outros sentimentos'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-114684461524200306</id><published>2006-05-05T10:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T10:58:24.796-05:00</updated><title type='text'>5ª Mentira - Sobre palavras e asas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/saudek.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/400/saudek.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Deixando a luz do Sol entrar nos meus olhos e nutrir.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tenho passeado por entre borboletas e cantigas de roda.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Lembro da primeira vez que te vi do jeito que te vejo agora.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Posso estar sempre apaixonado.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Posso morrer amanhã.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Posso acreditar em Deus mesmo que dê a ele outros nomes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Vida: Palavra espantosa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Palavras são como pedra, papel e civilizações&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;podem construir, crescer, expandir e podem ser destruidas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E eu adoro as palavras, as escadas, as pontes,as cartas,os sinais de fumaça,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;os muros, as árvores rabiscadas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tudo por causa de um:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Oi, tudo bem?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dai é só bater as asas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-114684461524200306?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/114684461524200306/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=114684461524200306' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114684461524200306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114684461524200306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/05/5-mentira-sobre-palavras-e-asas.html' title='5ª Mentira - Sobre palavras e asas'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-114658853983845026</id><published>2006-05-02T11:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T15:07:46.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>4ª Mentira - Sobre Cantar e Colorir</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/saudek.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/320/saudek.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;longe/perto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;borboletas e outras coisas mágicas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;o prestidigitador que não revela nada,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;o truque e o som.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eu acho tão bonito essas cores que desprendem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;dos seus cabelos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eu gosto de colorir pessoas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;o que me atormenta me mantem alegre...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eu penso em cantar no domingo belas canções...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-114658853983845026?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/114658853983845026/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=114658853983845026' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114658853983845026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114658853983845026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/05/4-mentira-sobre-cantar-e-colorir.html' title='4ª Mentira - Sobre Cantar e Colorir'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-114601796731422419</id><published>2006-04-25T20:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T22:10:58.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>3ª Mentira - Sobre dançar e sonhar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/Annex%20-%20Astaire,%20Fred_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/320/Annex%20-%20Astaire%2C%20Fred_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;dançar, dançar e dançar!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;assim que eu colocar os pés no chão...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No meio da rua, debaixo da chuva,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;enquanto houver música, enquanto invento uma,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;enquanto espero entre um intervalo e outro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eu respiro...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Suar até o som transpirar com você.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;até você transparecer o som.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;soar,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;voar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sonho e realidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fellini nos pés.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-114601796731422419?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/114601796731422419/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=114601796731422419' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114601796731422419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114601796731422419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/04/3-mentira-sobre-danar-e-sonhar.html' title='3ª Mentira - Sobre dançar e sonhar'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-114581839474914850</id><published>2006-04-23T13:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T13:55:56.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2ª Mentira - Sobre brincar e sentir medo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/Annex%20-%20Moore,%20Dickie_01.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/320/Annex%20-%20Moore%2C%20Dickie_01.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Diversão&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto guardo minhas coisas nas caixas&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto saio do lugar&lt;br /&gt;E deixo pra trás o que não era.&lt;br /&gt;Já era....&lt;br /&gt;Agora é só colocar as coisas no novo/velho lar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Livros,discos,&lt;br /&gt;Guitarra,violões....&lt;br /&gt;Roupas....&lt;br /&gt;Pouca coisa....&lt;br /&gt;Tudo que preciso.&lt;br /&gt;Tudo que fui e ainda sou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preciso de tempo pra pensar&lt;br /&gt;Se eu quero estar lá quando eu chegar&lt;br /&gt;Pra onde eu quero ir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada de filosofia.É medo mesmo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-114581839474914850?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/114581839474914850/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=114581839474914850' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114581839474914850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114581839474914850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/04/2-mentira-sobre-brincar-e-sentir-medo_23.html' title='2ª Mentira - Sobre brincar e sentir medo'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18709385.post-114546879422251107</id><published>2006-04-19T12:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T12:46:34.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1ª Mentira - Sobre lembrar e esquecer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/1600/SM_TheHotDog1989_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1665/1718/400/SM_TheHotDog1989_500.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solidão é uma coisa que a gente cria feito galinha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem era você antes de me conhecer?&lt;br /&gt;Pra onde eu fui quando você chegou?&lt;br /&gt;Como faço pra te esquecer sempre que você se for?&lt;br /&gt;Quando a gente se encontrar como vai me reconhecer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não precisa ter sentido...&lt;br /&gt;Precisa ser sincero.&lt;br /&gt;Feito chocolate quente.&lt;br /&gt;Colo de mãe.&lt;br /&gt;Abraço.&lt;br /&gt;Cinema.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;desde a última vez que morri eu não me lembrava&lt;br /&gt;o quanto é bonito o barulho da cidade, essa sinfonia&lt;br /&gt;que eu me indentifico tanto.&lt;br /&gt;mas agora esquece... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18709385-114546879422251107?l=piruetasementiras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/feeds/114546879422251107/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18709385&amp;postID=114546879422251107' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114546879422251107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18709385/posts/default/114546879422251107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piruetasementiras.blogspot.com/2006/04/1-mentira-sobre-lembrar-e-esquecer.html' title='1ª Mentira - Sobre lembrar e esquecer'/><author><name>Superviva!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10673559309325261133</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
