<?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-6243126901733723362</id><updated>2011-08-12T09:57:55.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>um pulinho para...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-3973804429675167457</id><published>2009-11-01T14:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T14:31:04.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Just A Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://rd3.videos.sapo.pt/play?file=http://rd3.videos.sapo.pt/Kq2nDuKBUjnVjFZWysmZ/mov/1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="410" height="281" allowFullScreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-3973804429675167457?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/3973804429675167457/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=3973804429675167457' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3973804429675167457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3973804429675167457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2009/11/its-just-dream.html' title='It&apos;s Just A Dream'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-7849307433671568118</id><published>2009-08-26T11:50:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T11:50:50.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_Ye8GLPUVsM&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_Ye8GLPUVsM&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só me vem esta frase hoje: nem tudo o que parece é.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-7849307433671568118?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/7849307433671568118/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=7849307433671568118' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/7849307433671568118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/7849307433671568118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-me-vem-esta-frase-hoje-nem-tudo-o_26.html' title=''/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-3554203198975936410</id><published>2009-08-26T11:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T11:50:49.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_Ye8GLPUVsM&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_Ye8GLPUVsM&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só me vem esta frase hoje: nem tudo o que parece é.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-3554203198975936410?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/3554203198975936410/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=3554203198975936410' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3554203198975936410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3554203198975936410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-me-vem-esta-frase-hoje-nem-tudo-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-1852333920921724953</id><published>2009-05-10T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T14:48:56.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aos meus amigos</title><content type='html'>Tenho a dizer que tenho saudades do nosso grupo junto!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VocÊs são maravilhosos. Um grupo que consegue-se aceitar por inteiro, aceitarmo-nos uns aos outros, sem recreminações, julgamentos, intrigas ou conjunturas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conseguimos ser um núcleo duro, juntos ou separados.. acho que respeitamo-nos e desejamos genuinamente o bem uns dos outros!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=) obrigada a vós, meus amigos: Zé, Paula, Rodolfo, Andreia, Rui, Telma, João e Susana. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juntamo-nos para criar isto... muito ou pouco usado, o que importa é que serve também para transmitir estas mensagens =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;beijinhos a todos ****&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-1852333920921724953?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/1852333920921724953/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=1852333920921724953' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/1852333920921724953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/1852333920921724953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2009/05/aos-meus-amigos.html' title='Aos meus amigos'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-2933611011411713608</id><published>2008-11-26T12:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T12:15:18.151-08:00</updated><title type='text'>... coff coff...</title><content type='html'>Depois de algumas mudanças esta semana, do novo ciclo que se aproxima.. =) e em conversa com a querida C. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surge: traduçao de alguns dos pensamentos femininos... (vejam lá se assim entendem meninos!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ele: está tudo bem?&lt;br /&gt;ela: sim está (mas a pensar... é obvio que nao está! nao ves?!?!)&lt;br /&gt;ele: mas tens a certeza?&lt;br /&gt;ela: sim (o problema és tu. que não vês o que acabou de se passar)&lt;br /&gt;ele: ah ok!&lt;br /&gt;ela: -cruza os braços e amua- (este gajo é mesmo estúpido... não entende nada e agora cala-se!! grrr que nervos)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ele: ta td bem?&lt;br /&gt;ela: oh não te quero maçar com estas questões (a pensar... oh tão querido... está disponível para ouvir)&lt;br /&gt;ele: ah ta bem!&lt;br /&gt;ela: -de boca aberta- (cabr*o... não está nem ai para o que me aconteceu!!! vaisver quando fores tu!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;existem mais situações... se se lembrarem.... é só postar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vá lá ru, comtrapõe, afinal é só um pulinho&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-2933611011411713608?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/2933611011411713608/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=2933611011411713608' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/2933611011411713608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/2933611011411713608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/11/coff-coff.html' title='... coff coff...'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-5801472230974988672</id><published>2008-11-11T12:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T13:02:35.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomar uma atitude!</title><content type='html'>Hoje tentei tomar uma atitude:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dizer pelo menos a duas pessoas, no mesmo dia, palavras bonitas e de agrado...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muitas vezes dizemos sem consciência... hoje reparei o valor disso. Apenas reparar num promenor e valorizar... :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não contribuieremos nós para uma massificação do equilibrio do mundo? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se todos assim fizermos, talvez consigamos ter pelo menos um bom momento no nosso dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje já fiz as minhas palavras agradaveis circularem... mas termino o meu dia, agradecendo a quem considerou estas palavras e vai tomar uma atitude!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-5801472230974988672?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/5801472230974988672/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=5801472230974988672' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/5801472230974988672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/5801472230974988672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/11/tomar-uma-atitude.html' title='Tomar uma atitude!'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-8397152957981273205</id><published>2008-10-31T03:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T03:57:09.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As enfermeiras não choram...</title><content type='html'>"A D. Maria tem 47 anos... e um cancro do ovário. O marido, já&lt;br /&gt;reformado, quis satisfazer-lhe o desejo de não morrer no hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Têm uma filha, a acabar o curso na universidade: boa aluna, em altura&lt;br /&gt;de exames... precisa de estudar e a sua mãe está a terminar os seus&lt;br /&gt;dias de vida no quarto ao lado.&lt;br /&gt;A D. Maria está em cuidados paliativos... e sabe disso! Já não quer&lt;br /&gt;comer, bebe apenas alguns goles de água. Tem um soro para que lhe&lt;br /&gt;possamos dar a medicação. Tem uma perfusão permanente de morfina, cuja&lt;br /&gt;eficácia não é total. A barriga... como descrever? Tem uma colostomia,&lt;br /&gt;que mal funciona... está inchada, como um balão que vai rebentar... e&lt;br /&gt;de facto, começa a rebentar: abrem-se fístulas espontaneamente e as&lt;br /&gt;fezes saem por todo o lado. O cheiro? Não consigo descrever! O corpo?&lt;br /&gt;Pele e osso, para ser mais exacta! Há metástases no fígado, no&lt;br /&gt;pulmão... a respiração é ofegante... já lá vão 5 semanas...&lt;br /&gt;Diariamente desloco-me a casa da D. Maria, duas ou três vezes: para&lt;br /&gt;dar medicação, para cuidar daquela barriga... para falar com ela, para&lt;br /&gt;dar o apoio possível ao marido que tenta fazer o que sabe e o que&lt;br /&gt;pode. O sofrimento? É grande... de todos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu sou enfermeira: não é suposto que me seja difícil ver o&lt;br /&gt;sofrimento dos outros! Tudo se torna mais difícil quando estou a sós&lt;br /&gt;com a D. Maria, que me agarra na mão e me pede insistentemente... que&lt;br /&gt;termine com a vida dela! Os apelos são cada vez mais frequentes, mais&lt;br /&gt;desesperados: 'Por favor! Se tem compaixão de mim, injecte-me qualquer&lt;br /&gt;coisa para terminar de vez com esta agonia! Pela sua felicidade, por&lt;br /&gt;favor, acabe com a minha vida...' E eu tenho compaixão... mas nada&lt;br /&gt;posso fazer! A dor não se consegue controlar, é impossível cuidar dela&lt;br /&gt;sem lhe provocar ainda mais dores? O que faz uma enfermeira? Vai-se&lt;br /&gt;embora, para casa, a sentir-se inútil... A sentir-se incapaz... A&lt;br /&gt;ouvir repetidamente aquele apelo... e a desejar, embora lhe custe&lt;br /&gt;muito, que a eutanásia fosse possível! Mas, se fosse possível... e a&lt;br /&gt;praticasse, como iria para casa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas para quê falar disto?... Os enfermeiros não têm sentimentos!&lt;br /&gt;Saio dali, continuo o meu trabalho domiciliário: agora entro numa&lt;br /&gt;barraca, onde chove dentro, onde há ratos, pulgas, lixo... onde o&lt;br /&gt;cheiro nos faz perder o apetite... O Sr. José tem 87 anos e vive&lt;br /&gt;sozinho. Tem uma úlcera varicosa. Tenho que fazer o penso. Não há&lt;br /&gt;água... nem sequer as mãos posso lavar. Passo-as por álcool à saída e&lt;br /&gt;lavo-as na casa do próximo utente.&lt;br /&gt;Chove desalmadamente. Volto para o carro, pelo meio da lama. Carrego&lt;br /&gt;as malas do material para os cuidados.&lt;br /&gt;Mas para quê falar disto?... A minha profissão não é penosa!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Próxima paragem: D. Joaquina, 92 anos, vive numas águas furtadas, 5º&lt;br /&gt;andar, sem elevador. Subo as escadas de madeira, apodrecidas,&lt;br /&gt;obscuras, com medo que alguma tábua se parta. Carrego com as malas do&lt;br /&gt;material...&lt;br /&gt;A D. Joaquina vive com uma irmã, naquele espaço exíguo. Teve uma trombose.&lt;br /&gt;Tem úlceras de pressão. O tecto é baixo, inclinado, a cama está&lt;br /&gt;encostada à parede. Para lhe prestar cuidados tenho que me pôr de&lt;br /&gt;joelhos no chão e ficar inclinada.&lt;br /&gt;Quando me tento endireitar as minhas costas doem... tenho as pernas&lt;br /&gt;dormentes... pego nas malas, desço as escadas... continua a chover...&lt;br /&gt;procuro o carro que tive que estacionar a 500 metros!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas, para quê falar disso? Os enfermeiros não se queixam...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Próximo desafio: a Helena! Toxicodependente... tem SIDA, continua a&lt;br /&gt;consumir... com sorte, ainda lá encontro o traficante em casa... mas&lt;br /&gt;as enfermeiras não têm medo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuo: o Sr. Manuel é diabético, divorciado, tem 50 anos, foi&lt;br /&gt;amputado de uma perna, vive sozinho num 3º andar. Há 2 anos que não&lt;br /&gt;sai de casa: como fazer? Das poucas pessoas, com quem convive, são as&lt;br /&gt;enfermeiras! Precisa de conversar... como lhe dizer que ainda tenho&lt;br /&gt;mais 4, ou 8 pessoas e que não tenho tempo para estar ali a ouvi-lo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas para quê falar disso? Os enfermeiros só dão injecções e fazem&lt;br /&gt;pensos... tudo o resto é supérfluo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para quê falar da solidão do outro, da minha impotência, do pedido da&lt;br /&gt;eutanásia, da chuva, do frio, do sol, do calor, do mau cheiro, das&lt;br /&gt;minhas dores nas pernas, do material do penso a conspurcar o meu carro&lt;br /&gt;(a seguir vou buscar a minha filha à escola!), das dores nas costas,&lt;br /&gt;do medo, da insegurança, do ventre desfeito, da tristeza, da&lt;br /&gt;compaixão...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não, a penosidade e o risco devem ser uma ilusão minha... Não, as&lt;br /&gt;enfermeiras não choram!&lt;br /&gt;Mas sabem?... as lágrimas que mais doem são aquelas que não correm!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desculpem... o texto longo... mas sabem que isto faz parte de mim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AH e PARABÉNS ao RU!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-8397152957981273205?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/8397152957981273205/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=8397152957981273205' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/8397152957981273205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/8397152957981273205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/10/as-enfermeiras-no-choram.html' title='As enfermeiras não choram...'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-3092227177984942422</id><published>2008-09-19T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T13:43:50.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mreyte ya mreyte</title><content type='html'>مريتي يا مريتي راح احكيلك احكَيتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قوليلي أَنا مين&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;انتِ أَنا، و أَنا إِنتِ، مَهمَة كبرتي و اتغَيَرتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بعيوني إِنتِ ستَّة يا مريتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;راح احكيلك احكَيتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قوليلي إِنو أَنا أَحلَة وَحدَة فيهٌ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;انعَم وَحدَة فيهٌ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;شُفي قولي الي تشوفي قولي يا مريتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;راح احكيلك احكَيتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قوليلي أَنا ليه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;شَعري مَنُّ أَشقَر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;خاصري مَنُّ أَصغَر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;و تمي مَنُّ أَكبَر، يا مريتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;راح احكيلك احكَيتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قوليلي أَنا كيف&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بَدّي أَصغَرَّة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;او يتحَلو الحَمرَة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مَع فُسطان السَهرَة، يا مريتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قوليلي أَنا مين&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;انتِ أَنا، و أَنا إِنتِ، مَهمَة كبرتي و اتغَيَرتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;بعيوني إِنتِ ستَّة يا مريتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قوليلي أَنا مين&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قوليلي أَنا مين&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يا مريتي، يا مريتي، يا مريت&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-3092227177984942422?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/3092227177984942422/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=3092227177984942422' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3092227177984942422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3092227177984942422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/09/mreyte-ya-mreyte.html' title='mreyte ya mreyte'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-3870455443997800059</id><published>2008-08-18T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T13:20:17.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O teu Walter na nossa Viagem ao mundo das inquietudes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=10403612"&gt;Walter Benjamin @ Radar Lisboa&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;object width="425px" height="360px" &gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"/&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://mediaservices.myspace.com/services/media/embed.aspx/m=10403612,t=1,mt=video"/&gt;&lt;embed src="http://mediaservices.myspace.com/services/media/embed.aspx/m=10403612,t=1,mt=video" width="425" height="360" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim... há sempre músicas que nos arrepiam... &lt;br /&gt;Vozes que nos tocam...&lt;br /&gt;Ouvir isto pela primeira vez com fones, é de arrepiar! Ainda mais na NOSSA viagem a Madrid/Bilbau! Há dias assim em que nos apetece fugir da realidade,e voltar à nossa viagem, ao nosso mundo!&lt;br /&gt;Mas sabemos bem que a nossa felicidade está no dia-a-dia. &lt;br /&gt;Mas mesmo ficando, os problemas mantêm-se. Só nós podemos mudar, com tempo, espera, algum carinho e mimos... &lt;br /&gt;Voltar atrás e ficar para sempre a ouvir o teu Walter , vendo-te puxar do cigarro e ouvi-lo a estalar enquanto queima... Sentir o calor de Madrid, sentir o calor da tua amizade. Rir pelos jogo das palavras, rir por rir, rir porque sim, e porque não?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VOLTAVA ATRÁS!!! Voltava atrás... Mas hoje é o PRESENTE, e como prenda que os dias são... só temos de os aceitar e desejar que amanhã seja um dia melhor, planear uma nova viagem! e... porque não? Dias maus vão sempre surgir, mas a memória já é nossa... Voltaria atrás? Voltava, mas... mais dias de riso irão surgir!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resta-nos ouvir o teu Walter Benjamin e "embalar-nos na vigem a Madrid"... Basta fechar os olhos e ouvir o teu Walter que tudo volta... Basta o Walter... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I’m glad &lt;br /&gt;That you&lt;br /&gt;Are coming back tomorrow &lt;br /&gt;And&lt;br /&gt;We'll never die..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Para ti FI&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-3870455443997800059?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/3870455443997800059/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=3870455443997800059' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3870455443997800059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3870455443997800059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/08/o-teu-walter-na-nossa-viagem-ao-mundo.html' title='O teu Walter na nossa Viagem ao mundo das inquietudes'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-7948546626933383781</id><published>2008-06-24T03:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T04:03:18.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>viver???felicidade???</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;viver???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;o que é viver?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;felicidade???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;o que sera ser feliz?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;o que precisamos para viver e ser feliz?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(respondam com sinceridade e a vossa verdadeira &lt;strong&gt;opinião&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;para vermos diferentes postos de vista e formas de viver e estar)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-7948546626933383781?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/7948546626933383781/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=7948546626933383781' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/7948546626933383781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/7948546626933383781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/06/viverfelicidade.html' title='viver???felicidade???'/><author><name>rodolfo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04590724650184372298</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-6243126901733723362.post-5901013757023443278</id><published>2008-04-25T03:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T03:30:25.882-07:00</updated><title type='text'>o que é a liberdade?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-YUxbDEPFiM&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-YUxbDEPFiM&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-5901013757023443278?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/5901013757023443278/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=5901013757023443278' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/5901013757023443278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/5901013757023443278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-liberdade.html' title='o que é a liberdade?'/><author><name>Telma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02611833443500004507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRd9qEWASnM/SMbe_IYezaI/AAAAAAAAAD0/oh9rw8CfT68/S220/Desta+moldura+edificada,+o+eixo+%C3%ADgneo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-934852685801681910</id><published>2008-04-13T12:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T12:41:12.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A paz é mais importante que o amor</title><content type='html'>AS vezes sinto falta de ter o meu tempo de solidão! &lt;br /&gt;Sentir-me so para o meu EU falar para MIM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tento descobrir o que sou,quem sou e para onde vou... nenhuma destas perguntas é verdadeiramente respondida,mas por um breve momento tento entender quem eu sou neste pedaço de historia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muitas vezes, a maioria das vezes, não encontro resposta; mas pelo menos é reconfortante... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estar longe de influências externa e aprender a ver pelos nossos olhos... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;parar, escutar,olhar... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aprendemos sempre qualquer coisa... nem que seja que: paz é mais importante que o amor!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-934852685801681910?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/934852685801681910/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=934852685801681910' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/934852685801681910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/934852685801681910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/04/paz-mais-importante-que-o-amor.html' title='A paz é mais importante que o amor'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-2612580714656928290</id><published>2008-03-22T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T09:15:29.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>emissões e frequências</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  font-weight: bold; font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Querida &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;sintonizamos hoje a estação de rádio. de hoje não passa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;tu sabes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;canais são opções de passagem, são alternativas, são oportunidades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;não raras vezes gostava de ter à mão, incorporado, um sistema &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Walkie Talkie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;para comunicar directamente com essa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;casa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;sem tirar nem pôr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;quando de algum encontro extraímos uma essência familiar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;quando alguém coincide connosco no dialecto, na língua natal, e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;surge um reconhecimento, um pertencer ali, àquela vibração, àquele vocábulo, àquela expressão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;quando sentimos uma ressonância, uma cumplicidade óbvia, embora nem sempre o seja:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;não há dúvida que é o melhor do mundo. e que nos custa até aos ossos assumir que é preciso calçar as botas de montanha, o sobretudo e o impermeável e sair porta fora, abraço fora. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;sair do quente afectivo para correr o risco da intempérie. mas como lembras, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;tem que ser. e o que tem que ser, como se diz cá em casa, tem muita força!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"&gt;também há casas abandonadas que ressuscitam quando as voltamos a habitar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;crescer fora de casa é crescer para dentro do mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;achas que podemos calçar os chinelos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;acender a lareira, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;ficar a ouvir as promessas em cherry blossom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;e deixar a emulsão de obrigações para depois?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  white-space: pre; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/8e0nygPCMq/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/8e0nygPCMq/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Diz que sim...  &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  font-family:Verdana;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-2612580714656928290?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/2612580714656928290/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=2612580714656928290' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/2612580714656928290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/2612580714656928290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/03/emisses-e-frequncias.html' title='emissões e frequências'/><author><name>Telma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02611833443500004507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRd9qEWASnM/SMbe_IYezaI/AAAAAAAAAD0/oh9rw8CfT68/S220/Desta+moldura+edificada,+o+eixo+%C3%ADgneo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-3948145449456200822</id><published>2008-03-21T05:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T05:45:35.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>home.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Existem muitas casas na nossa vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Portos (in)seguros que permanecemos até à mudança. Existem mudanças que queremos resistir, casas que não queremos mudar.&lt;br /&gt;Mas tem que ser…. Mesmo que a seguir (des)façamos as malas. Existem peças que não vão connosco. Temos que deixar para trás. Pertence à outra casa e temos que nos desvincular disso.&lt;br /&gt;A escolha é difícil. o que levar o que não levar?&lt;br /&gt;Há casas que nunca abandonamos porque não se tornam desconhecidas. Porque em qualquer momento que cheguemos sentimo-nos em casa e temos sempre vontade de calçar os chinelos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Preciso constantemente de me sentir em casa. De sentir o calor que me aconchega e me protege. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-3948145449456200822?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/3948145449456200822/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=3948145449456200822' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3948145449456200822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3948145449456200822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/03/home.html' title='home.'/><author><name>andreia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='19' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ILI9qFD9KXs/TwzMPR_RWsI/AAAAAAAAChQ/Pf7IKwZ4pLI/s220/P1130067_1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-8148665873342983836</id><published>2008-03-12T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T12:43:28.885-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Algures o ceu e azul e todos os nossos sonhos sao reais =)</title><content type='html'>Obrigada Lilas, somos da mesma tonalidede :) sabes disso!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;partilho o que partilhas comigo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/10w_sEcHlGs&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/10w_sEcHlGs&amp;color1=0x402061&amp;color2=0x9461ca&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-8148665873342983836?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/8148665873342983836/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=8148665873342983836' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/8148665873342983836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/8148665873342983836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/03/algures-o-ceu-e-azul-e-todos-os-nossos.html' title='Algures o ceu e azul e todos os nossos sonhos sao reais =)'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-8248844399230528073</id><published>2008-03-09T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T14:21:49.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amendoas em tempo de pascoa</title><content type='html'>As amendoas ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com recheio de chocolate, com recheio de amendoa, coloridas ou descoloridas... elas sao assim.. viciantes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;primeiro uma, depois outra e quando damos por nos temos um pacote devorado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que fazemos quando encontramos uma amendoa amarga????  a primeira reacçao e arrepiarmo.nos! pensar nao comer outra a seguir... o medo apodera-se de nos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um pouco como no amor, temos medo depois de alguma amargura... temos receio de que a proxima amendoa seja amarga!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas tal como nao sabemos que amendoa nos saira a seguir, no amor tambem nao... teremos uma amendoa doce que nos envolve as papilas gustativas de um doce prazer... ou uma amendoa que nos arrepia a alma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha que correr o risco! So assim saberemos se a docura existe.... e no meio de tantas amendoas, acreditem que a proxima sera mais doce e provocara um extase de prazer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com tantas amendoas no pacote, nao acredito que sejam todas amargas :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: sexta estaras ca ... weeeeeee :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-8248844399230528073?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/8248844399230528073/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=8248844399230528073' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/8248844399230528073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/8248844399230528073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/03/amendoas-em-tempo-de-pascoa.html' title='Amendoas em tempo de pascoa'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-8268478147976458578</id><published>2008-02-17T13:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T14:05:51.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Relações</title><content type='html'>Na continuidade das relações, so me resta dizer que em todas as elas (amizade, amor, familia...) sao dificeis! Relações são dificeis! Onde acaba a nossa bolha e começa a do outro? Essa tenue linha... prestes a rebentar em cada contacto indevido! Esta e a certeza que me circunda... o ser humano  tem em si complexidade, tornando todas as relações complexas- não complicadas-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOTA DE PAGINA: Andreia, sabes que te adoro! Diverte-te por terras espanholas... podemos ter bolhas... mas as nossas, essas são bolas de sabão coloridas!! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(desculpem a falta de acentuação... tenho o pc estragado)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-8268478147976458578?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/8268478147976458578/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=8268478147976458578' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/8268478147976458578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/8268478147976458578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/02/relaes.html' title='Relações'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-4489632247071295232</id><published>2008-01-12T13:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T13:26:18.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>relações?complicações!!!</title><content type='html'>sera possivel dois serem um?&lt;br /&gt;duas pessoas&lt;br /&gt;duas identidades&lt;br /&gt;dois seres&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quando duas pessoas iniciam algo,ate que ponto conseguimos ficar sem tentar mudar o outro ser amado,rectificar ou construir à sua imagem ou no seu ideal?&lt;br /&gt;ate que ponto aceitamos?&lt;br /&gt;a pessoa amada até que ponto vai mudar por nós?&lt;br /&gt;se mudar vai ficar feliz?&lt;br /&gt;serei e a minha amada será feliz se mudar por mim?&lt;br /&gt;e eu serei feliz se mudar por ela?&lt;br /&gt;ate que ponto seremos um só?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-4489632247071295232?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/4489632247071295232/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=4489632247071295232' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/4489632247071295232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/4489632247071295232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2008/01/relaescomplicaes.html' title='relações?complicações!!!'/><author><name>rodolfo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04590724650184372298</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-7678477844599879107</id><published>2007-12-26T14:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T14:25:48.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>o síndrome do pós-natal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;É possível que haja uma ressaca de natal?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Aquele frenesim de luzes, prendas, ar condicionado, doces e muito stress para que tudo esteja pronto a tempo e nos conformes. Pode isto estar associado a uma quebra de energia pós-natal? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;É este dia um processo anaeróbico por excelência?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Adormeci com o prenúncio das dores de garganta e cabeça e acordei doente, realmente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Um amigo meu, igual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Somos extra-sensíveis aos excessos, ou alguém mais partilha desta inquietação?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-7678477844599879107?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/7678477844599879107/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=7678477844599879107' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/7678477844599879107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/7678477844599879107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2007/12/o-ps-natal.html' title='o síndrome do pós-natal'/><author><name>Telma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02611833443500004507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRd9qEWASnM/SMbe_IYezaI/AAAAAAAAAD0/oh9rw8CfT68/S220/Desta+moldura+edificada,+o+eixo+%C3%ADgneo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-6260465633934237684</id><published>2007-12-24T04:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T04:51:05.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>é natal.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O que ficou deste ano?&lt;br /&gt;O que mudou?&lt;br /&gt;O que aprendemos?&lt;br /&gt;Quem encontramos este ano?&lt;br /&gt;Os projectos.&lt;br /&gt;As ideias.&lt;br /&gt;o voltar para trás? O andar para frente? E o não sair do mesmo sítio…&lt;br /&gt;A impotência momentânea. A capacidade presente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com a idade, ligo cada vez menos ao Natal. Para mim o Natal é ver o Sozinho em Casa pela 10000 vez e comer doces (também o faço em qualquer altura do ano!). Não me lembro de mais ou menos coisas nesta época. Contudo até ao Ano Novo faço um balanço do Ano, a ideia que 31 de Dezembro é um fim de algo, e dia 1 de Janeiro o início para algo completamente diferente. Gosto dessa ideia… agrada-me esta separação, um pouco como etiquetas que colocamos para nos organizarmos. Ano 2001. Ano 2004. Ano 2007. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessoalmente, acho que os anos estão cada vez maiores, porque existem meses que parecem anos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bom Natal&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-6260465633934237684?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/6260465633934237684/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=6260465633934237684' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/6260465633934237684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/6260465633934237684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2007/12/natal.html' title='é natal.'/><author><name>andreia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='19' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ILI9qFD9KXs/TwzMPR_RWsI/AAAAAAAAChQ/Pf7IKwZ4pLI/s220/P1130067_1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-7785299451132674453</id><published>2007-12-10T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T13:21:18.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>de-s-iludir.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por vezes exigimos o que ninguém nos é capaz de dar, para nos desiludirmos gratuitamente.&lt;br /&gt;Esta história das expectativas foi tão “bem” construída na mente do ser, que estamos sempre à espera de algo, como uma criança que estende os braços à espera de colo.&lt;br /&gt;Há quem diga que somos incapazes de viver sem expectativas. Creio que precisamos de consistência, como tal esperamos que os outros se mantenham constantes, coerentes, sem dar a oportunidade ao outro de se distrair. Há uma necessidade de cobrança, gerada por uma insegurança, que dá origem a egocentrismos…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fundo estamos todos a aprender e fazer o melhor que sabemos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-7785299451132674453?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/7785299451132674453/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=7785299451132674453' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/7785299451132674453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/7785299451132674453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2007/12/de-s-iludir.html' title='de-s-iludir.'/><author><name>andreia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='19' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ILI9qFD9KXs/TwzMPR_RWsI/AAAAAAAAChQ/Pf7IKwZ4pLI/s220/P1130067_1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-9045992736017417304</id><published>2007-12-06T12:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T12:59:29.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quando?</title><content type='html'>Muitas vezes precisamos de pular, de mudar... mas as mudanças custam... estamos tão habituados as nossas vidinhas, que mesmo sonhando as coisas não acontecem...&lt;br /&gt;Porque temos tanto medo do desconhecido? Porque é que só nos sentimos confortáveis naquilo que nos é familiar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sim... as vezes precisamos de uma racha! Mas... a questão que levanto é, como identificá-la? Como saber ser necessário dar o pulo?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-9045992736017417304?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/9045992736017417304/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=9045992736017417304' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/9045992736017417304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/9045992736017417304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2007/12/quando.html' title='Quando?'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-3906571336156422509</id><published>2007-12-03T17:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T18:25:16.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>fio de ariadne</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Parece que dar o pulo deixa as palavras para atrás.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Dar o pulo, seguro ou não, mais ou menos medo à perna, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;este e aquele cair no goto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;O precisar-se de uma racha, a cisão com &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;a caducidade e recuperar o mel de outono. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Algumas considerações espontâneas eclodem, o sexo dos anjos e dos homens baila&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;entre fractais, seratonina, olhares e gargalhadas viçosas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Discordâncias convergentes harmonizam-se em cada tom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Afinam-se os afectos. Afinal os afectos são inquilinos de um diapasão-coração plural e único.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Todas as nossas cores em paleta viva, sobre a mesa, os doces e os agridoces de cada um.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;As cortinas que se abrem com o vento das ideias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A compreensão autêntica que alenta as confissões, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;os desejos e as utopias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ah, como vibram as horas sem tempo que nos unem pelos pulos ensaiados, pelos arriscados e por aqueles que se contactam a termo e se concluem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; Nenhum pulo é em vão e nenhuma hora o é tão pouco. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A melhor riqueza que existe é a partilha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Lembro-me da "Pedra Filosofal" do Antonio Gedeão, apropósito:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sempre que pulamos, de algum modo o mundo pula connosco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Times;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; "(...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eles não sabem, nem sonham,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;que o sonho comanda a vida,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;que sempre que um homem sonha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;o mundo pula e avança&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;como bola colorida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;entre as mãos de uma criança."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-3906571336156422509?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/3906571336156422509/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=3906571336156422509' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3906571336156422509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/3906571336156422509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2007/12/fio-de-ariadne.html' title='fio de ariadne'/><author><name>Telma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02611833443500004507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRd9qEWASnM/SMbe_IYezaI/AAAAAAAAAD0/oh9rw8CfT68/S220/Desta+moldura+edificada,+o+eixo+%C3%ADgneo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-2676228845650822549</id><published>2007-12-03T15:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T15:27:59.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>momentos.</title><content type='html'>E as conversas continuam a surgir, porque cada um de nós dá espaço ao outro, porque em alguns de nós falta espaço, não ali… mas noutros sítios distantes e próximos do coração.&lt;br /&gt;em cada um de nós falta um pulinho ….a diferentes níveis.&lt;br /&gt;as conversas surgem e demoram horas, e o tempo passa a correr, os pulinhos são muitos&lt;br /&gt;os sorrisos&lt;br /&gt;os abraços&lt;br /&gt;as noites&lt;br /&gt;o chocolate&lt;br /&gt;e o amor incondicional fica*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-2676228845650822549?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/2676228845650822549/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=2676228845650822549' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/2676228845650822549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/2676228845650822549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2007/12/momentos.html' title='momentos.'/><author><name>andreia</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='19' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ILI9qFD9KXs/TwzMPR_RWsI/AAAAAAAAChQ/Pf7IKwZ4pLI/s220/P1130067_1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243126901733723362.post-8399965251673660009</id><published>2007-12-03T14:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T14:43:23.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A racha...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Depois de alguma dissertação sobre o tema... Depois de algumas conversas pelos cantos da cidade... Depois de partilhar... Depois de discutir ideias... chegámos a conclusão de que só assim conseguimos chegar a um pulinho para....&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;A partilha surgiu de um grupo de amigos, que em conversas sobre a vida, sobre as relações humanas - amizade, amor, paixão -&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;a universalidade, a existencialidade, a partilha, as emoções, o sexo, a compaixão, o egoísmo, a certeza, a incerteza, a flexibilidade... (e tantos outros temas em debate). Deste modo, as abordagens serão muitas... apenas querendo tornar-nos pessoas melhores!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Todos os textos serão publicados pelos elementos que partilham as suas ideias uma após uma... aceitam-se sempre comentários…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Assim sendo... a frase de início não poderia ser a mais apropriada: "O que falta aqui &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;é uma racha!!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;O resto... é convosco…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6243126901733723362-8399965251673660009?l=um-pulinho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/feeds/8399965251673660009/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6243126901733723362&amp;postID=8399965251673660009' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/8399965251673660009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6243126901733723362/posts/default/8399965251673660009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://um-pulinho.blogspot.com/2007/12/racha.html' title='A racha...'/><author><name>Violet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10784177028359852028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='15' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evw83t7fMBk/SKnRa05jiqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BXCm0QIQ144/S220/jucyii.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
