<?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-5859206695461064884</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:21:06.268-08:00</updated><category term='inconveniente'/><category term='sonhos'/><title type='text'>Vermelho</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sabrina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13599649277336199002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/TGMZN-slAAI/AAAAAAAAANM/hrRwuV03x9w/S220/claritafk21.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5859206695461064884.post-1429797280237073399</id><published>2010-03-01T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T09:31:28.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Êêêê, desânimo!!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Merda de vida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/S4v54umUG0I/AAAAAAAAAME/UjNLpRjvYd0/s1600-h/desanimo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443719327584099138" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/S4v54umUG0I/AAAAAAAAAME/UjNLpRjvYd0/s400/desanimo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/S4v5AgBeQXI/AAAAAAAAAL8/EYYlxFWGTIM/s1600-h/depre.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5859206695461064884-1429797280237073399?l=allred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/feeds/1429797280237073399/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2010/03/eeee-desanimo-merda-de-vida.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/1429797280237073399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/1429797280237073399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2010/03/eeee-desanimo-merda-de-vida.html' title=''/><author><name>Sabrina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13599649277336199002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/TGMZN-slAAI/AAAAAAAAANM/hrRwuV03x9w/S220/claritafk21.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/S4v54umUG0I/AAAAAAAAAME/UjNLpRjvYd0/s72-c/desanimo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5859206695461064884.post-729047066308901529</id><published>2009-11-01T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T18:47:40.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sinto falta de pedir, esperar, desejar – desesperadamente – que alguém me ame.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto falta daquele desespero de achar que tudo está acabado e que não tem mais jeito.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto falta da felicidade que &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sobrevém&lt;/span&gt; à tristeza de achar que não sou amada e descobrir que estou errada.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto falta de estar apaixonada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;miss&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ask&lt;/span&gt;, to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt;, to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;wish&lt;/span&gt; – &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;desperately&lt;/span&gt; – for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; me.&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;miss&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;despair&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; comes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;from&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;thinking&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;ruined&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;beyond&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;repair&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;miss&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;happiness&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; comes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;after&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;sadness&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; comes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;from&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;thinking&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; i’m &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;loved&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;find&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;out&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; i’m &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;wrong&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;miss&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;being&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;in&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5859206695461064884-729047066308901529?l=allred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/feeds/729047066308901529/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/11/sinto-falta-de-pedir-esperar-desejar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/729047066308901529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/729047066308901529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/11/sinto-falta-de-pedir-esperar-desejar.html' title=''/><author><name>Sabrina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13599649277336199002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/TGMZN-slAAI/AAAAAAAAANM/hrRwuV03x9w/S220/claritafk21.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5859206695461064884.post-9152625599660125647</id><published>2009-09-17T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T06:25:27.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Le garçon qui criait au loup"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Une fables d'Aesop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il était une fois un jeune berger qui gardait des moutons. Un jour, il décida de jouer un tour aux gens du village. "Loup ! Loup ! Un loup pourchasse mes moutons" Cria le jeune berger. Tous les gens du village vinrent alors en courant pour aider le jeune garçon à faire fuir le loup. Ce dernier trouva son tour très drole et ria bien des gens du village, qui lui en voulurent pour cette farce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ne crie pas au loup quand il n'y en a pas ! Ce n'est pas drole !". Dirent les villageois au garçon. Le jeune garçon ne les écouta pas, et décida de refaire sa farce une nouvelle fois:          &lt;br /&gt;"Loup ! Loup ! Un loup pourchasse mes moutons" Cria le jeune berger. Tous les gens du village vinrent alors une nouvelle fois en courant pour aider le jeune garçon. Ce dernier trouva de nouveau son tour très drole et ria de plus belle des gens du village, qui lui en voulurent à nouveau pour cette farce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus tard dans la journée, un véritable loup vint chasser les moutons du jeune berger, qui en fut très effrayé. "Loup ! Loup ! Un loup pourchasse mes moutons" Cria le jeune berger. Comme les gens du village pensait qu'il s'agissait de nouveau d'un mauvais tour, aucun n'accouru cette fois à son aide.           &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lorsque la nuit arriva, les villageois se demandèrent où était le juene berger. Ils le trouvèrent en pleurs "Il y avait un loup! J'ai crié mais personne n'est venu. Maintenant tous mes moutons se sont enfuis" leur expliqua-t-il tristement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nous t'aiderons demain matin à les retrouver" répondirent les villageois &lt;strong&gt;"Mais souviens-toi à l'avenir que personne ne croit un menteur, meme quand il dit la vérité".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5859206695461064884-9152625599660125647?l=allred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/feeds/9152625599660125647/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/09/le-garcon-qui-criait-au-loup-une-fables.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/9152625599660125647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/9152625599660125647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/09/le-garcon-qui-criait-au-loup-une-fables.html' title=''/><author><name>Sabrina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13599649277336199002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/TGMZN-slAAI/AAAAAAAAANM/hrRwuV03x9w/S220/claritafk21.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5859206695461064884.post-8957809820803398207</id><published>2009-09-09T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T12:30:40.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Superada a fase kafkaniana/shakespeariana... a viagem foi ótima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E agora eu estou pobre. Novas estripulias financeiras somente depois de 2012.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s631.photobucket.com/albums/uu35/sabrinacreder/?action=view&amp;amp;current=samp28440f637e81e8d4.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i631.photobucket.com/albums/uu35/sabrinacreder/samp28440f637e81e8d4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5859206695461064884-8957809820803398207?l=allred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/feeds/8957809820803398207/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/09/superada-fase-kafkanianashakespeariana.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/8957809820803398207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/8957809820803398207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/09/superada-fase-kafkanianashakespeariana.html' title=''/><author><name>Sabrina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13599649277336199002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/TGMZN-slAAI/AAAAAAAAANM/hrRwuV03x9w/S220/claritafk21.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5859206695461064884.post-5631971772540031236</id><published>2009-08-31T06:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T06:51:32.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Imagine que morrer é não mais ser.&lt;br /&gt;Não mais pensar, não mais sentir. Não mais perceber. Não ser. Não existir.&lt;br /&gt;Deveria ser libertador, mas parece somente desesperador.&lt;br /&gt;Para o mundo, a diferença é mínima.&lt;br /&gt;Mas para o meu mundo, a diferença é a máxima. Total.&lt;br /&gt;Não respirar. Não sentir. O coração não bate, o pulmão não incha, a dor não afeta.&lt;br /&gt;E a cabeça não pensa. Nada. Fim.&lt;br /&gt;Perco o sono pensando que um dia não mais serei. Não mais pensarei, não mais estarei.&lt;br /&gt;E não posso fugir. Eu sei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que merda.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5859206695461064884-5631971772540031236?l=allred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/feeds/5631971772540031236/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/08/imagine-que-morrer-e-nao-mais-ser.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/5631971772540031236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/5631971772540031236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/08/imagine-que-morrer-e-nao-mais-ser.html' title=''/><author><name>Sabrina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13599649277336199002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/TGMZN-slAAI/AAAAAAAAANM/hrRwuV03x9w/S220/claritafk21.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5859206695461064884.post-7955669280947051586</id><published>2009-08-11T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T14:03:19.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dor de cabeça!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/SoHcf_Nf0QI/AAAAAAAAAB4/TJhlm8fHACU/s1600-h/51-1%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368814672904442114" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 282px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/SoHcf_Nf0QI/AAAAAAAAAB4/TJhlm8fHACU/s400/51-1%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duas neosas já e nada...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5859206695461064884-7955669280947051586?l=allred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/feeds/7955669280947051586/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/08/dor-de-cabeca.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/7955669280947051586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/7955669280947051586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/08/dor-de-cabeca.html' title='Dor de cabeça!!!!!'/><author><name>Sabrina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13599649277336199002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/TGMZN-slAAI/AAAAAAAAANM/hrRwuV03x9w/S220/claritafk21.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/SoHcf_Nf0QI/AAAAAAAAAB4/TJhlm8fHACU/s72-c/51-1%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5859206695461064884.post-2340339688107699357</id><published>2009-08-06T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T14:30:57.754-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inconveniente'/><title type='text'>Weird</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;É impressionante como tem gente &lt;em&gt;no notion&lt;/em&gt; nesse mundo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O que leva um homem abordar uma mulher totalmente estranha e...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Melhor descrever a situação:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Estou eu, na fila para tirar cópias de uns processos, numa copiadora fora do juizado, cuja máquina, para variar quebrou, e, do nada, esse homem me pergunta?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- Vai distribuir, Dra.? (E eu tipo "distribuir o que, aonde? Eu errei de destino e vim parar no PROGER?")&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- Não só estou tirando cópia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- Ah! Eu nunca entendo bem essas coisas de consumidor... Trabalho com Direito Previdenciário. Sou advogado também!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- Hum, que bom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- Tenho que atravessar umas petições nuns processos, mas sempre me atrapalho...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- É, mas é fácil, não tem nada demais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- É eu sei. (Pausa) Vou te mandar umas petições de Direito do Consumidor quando eu fizer... A gente faz uma parceria...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- Hum, infelizmente, o escritório onde trabalho não permite que eu tenha processos "por fora".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- Ah! Que pena!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- Pois é.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- Ah, então tchau!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De onde saem essas pessoas? Ainda cruzo com o encosto na rua, um segundo depois, só para ouvir, como se ele fosse meu melhor amigo: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- E aeeeeeí Dra?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5859206695461064884-2340339688107699357?l=allred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/feeds/2340339688107699357/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/08/weird.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/2340339688107699357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/2340339688107699357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/08/weird.html' title='Weird'/><author><name>Sabrina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13599649277336199002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/TGMZN-slAAI/AAAAAAAAANM/hrRwuV03x9w/S220/claritafk21.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5859206695461064884.post-3636263800664116861</id><published>2009-07-23T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T13:38:40.709-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sonhos'/><title type='text'>Máquina dos sonhos</title><content type='html'>Tive uma idéia outro dia... Poderiam inventar uma máquina de sonhos. Como assim, máquina de sonhos? Bem, antes de dormir, a pessoa programaria na máquina o sonho que desejasse ter e se conectaria à máquina. Ao dormir, experimentaria o sonho exatamente como programado. Não seria ótimo? Imagine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Voar. Sem avião.&lt;br /&gt;• Aquele ator de cinema que você adora está apaixonado por você.&lt;br /&gt;• Você é magra, alta, sem celulite e anda de biquíni na praia, num fim de tarde quente, tomando um coquetel com um guarda-chuva rosa. Aquele ator de cinema que você adora está na praia e vem conversar contigo.&lt;br /&gt;• Aquele rapaz que você olha de longe todos os dias te convida para ir ao cinema e depois, jantar. • No restaurante, pede o vinho que você ama, segura sua mão, beija seus dedos e diz que você é a mulher mais linda que ele já viu. E paga a conta.&lt;br /&gt;• Realizar as fantasias sexuais que – só em sonho – você realizaria.&lt;br /&gt;• Cavalgar numa planície verde, com vento frio no rosto e o calor do sol em suas costas. Apear debaixo de uma árvore, e ficar olhando o anoitecer.&lt;br /&gt;• Ir à um jantar de gala, onde todas os pratos são os seus prediletos. E o seu estomago não tem fundo. E a comida não engorda.&lt;br /&gt;• Ter um cartão de crédito sem limite. E sem fatura no final do mês.&lt;br /&gt;• Estar grávida. Entrar em trabalho de parto e ver seu filho nascer, sem nenhuma dor. Ver o rosto do seu filho pela primeira vez.&lt;br /&gt;• Ver vovó e vovô, rindo, brincando e conversando com você, como se nunca tivessem partido.&lt;br /&gt;• Cantar para um estádio cheio. Ver a multidão cantando a sua música com você. Ser ovacionada.&lt;br /&gt;• Ser promovida no trabalho, ver seu trabalho reconhecido, ganhar um gordo aumento e um placa de “melhor chefe” dos seus funcionários.&lt;br /&gt;• Ter a melhor (e mais cara) festa de casamento do mundo.&lt;br /&gt;• Morrer. Sem medo e sem dor. E descobrir que não tem nada demais, que o outro lado existe e que o inferno não existe, mas o paraíso sim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pois é. Depois eu pensei melhor e cheguei à conclusão de que tal máquina não poderia nunca ser inventada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu nunca mais acordaria.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5859206695461064884-3636263800664116861?l=allred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/feeds/3636263800664116861/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/07/maquina-dos-sonhos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/3636263800664116861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/3636263800664116861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/07/maquina-dos-sonhos.html' title='Máquina dos sonhos'/><author><name>Sabrina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13599649277336199002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/TGMZN-slAAI/AAAAAAAAANM/hrRwuV03x9w/S220/claritafk21.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5859206695461064884.post-2606077061342134173</id><published>2009-07-17T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T14:22:01.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New</title><content type='html'>É esquisito começar a escrever de novo, depois de tanto tempo...&lt;br /&gt;Faz tanto tempo que eu achei melhor deletar todos os meus antigos posts. Eu não sou mais aquela pessoa. Agora eu sou essa.&lt;br /&gt;Casa nova, tudo novo. Novos posts, novo layout (Lindo, né? Eu que fiz! Acho que eu vou começar a fazer para fora... rs), nova eu, nova vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero só ver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5859206695461064884-2606077061342134173?l=allred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/feeds/2606077061342134173/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/07/new.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/2606077061342134173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5859206695461064884/posts/default/2606077061342134173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allred.blogspot.com/2009/07/new.html' title='New'/><author><name>Sabrina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13599649277336199002</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WdchfeEarBw/TGMZN-slAAI/AAAAAAAAANM/hrRwuV03x9w/S220/claritafk21.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
