<?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-6154221937810061252</id><updated>2012-01-29T07:29:38.954-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm the voice inside your head</title><subtitle type='html'>'Eu costumo desabafar quando o meu interior se torna demasiado pequeno para guardar tantas coisas em silêncio.'</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>147</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-3880699240773243852</id><published>2012-01-29T07:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-29T07:29:38.963-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>'The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-3880699240773243852?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3880699240773243852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3880699240773243852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/most-painful-goodbyes-are-ones-that-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1707942817783186214</id><published>2012-01-28T08:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T08:12:56.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img height="86" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/395316_358972670779991_100000017846171_1415961_1562646205_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-1707942817783186214?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1707942817783186214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1707942817783186214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post_28.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-347362511318665058</id><published>2012-01-26T13:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T13:00:03.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>let's do it</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lizdw0ujgc1qearaqo1_1280_large" height="236" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/10416355/tumblr_lizdw0UJGC1qearaqo1_1280_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;'Birds do it, bees do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Even educated fleas do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Let's do it, let's fall in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;In Spain, the best upper sets do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: cyan; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;Lithuanians and Letts do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Let's do it, let's fall in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;The Dutch in old Amsterdam do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Not to mention the Fins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Folks in Siam do it - think of Siamese twins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Some Argentines, without means, do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;People say in Boston even beans do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Let's do it, let's fall in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Romantic sponges, they say, do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Oysters down in oyster bay do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Let's do it, let's fall in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Old Cape Cod clams, 'gainst their wish, do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Even lazy jellyfish, do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Let's do it, let's fall in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Electric eels I might add do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Though it shocks em I know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Why ask if shad do it - Waiter bring me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;"shad roe"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;In shallow shoals English soles do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Goldfish in the privacy of bowls do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Let's do it, let's fall in love'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Ella Fitzgerald&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/6154221937810061252-347362511318665058?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/347362511318665058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/347362511318665058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/lets-do-it.html' title='let&apos;s do it'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4570894839870867036</id><published>2012-01-24T11:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T11:44:23.925-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mente</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lyb93e5pe41qagoy2o1_500_large" height="400" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21713705/tumblr_lyb93e5pe41qagoy2o1_500_large.jpg" width="286" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘Posso fechar os meus olhos e, numa fracção de segundo, pensar em estrelas coloridas a cintilar no fundo de um céu azul-escuro. Estrelas que nem sequer sei se existem, ou que talvez estejam a muitos anos-luz de distância. Posso imaginar uma vaca amarela ou, então, dizer que estou a sentir muito calor. Entretanto, se alguém pudesse abrir o meu cérebro e examiná-lo com o mais aperfeiçoado instrumento de observação de que a ciência dispõe, não veria estrelas coloridas, nem uma vaca amarela, veria apenas uma massa cinzenta, repleta de células ligadas entre si.’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;João F. Teixeira&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-4570894839870867036?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4570894839870867036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4570894839870867036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/mente.html' title='mente'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8179637282410452803</id><published>2012-01-22T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T11:21:49.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't wanna miss a thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;'I could stay awake just to hear you breathing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Watch you smile while you are sleeping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;While you're far away and dreaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I could spend my life in this sweet surrender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I could stay lost in this moment forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Every moment spent with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Is a moment of treasure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Don't wanna close my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I don't wanna fall asleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;'Cause I'd miss you baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;'Cause even when I dream of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;The sweetest dream would never do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I'd still miss you baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Laying close to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Feeling your heart beating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And I'm wondering what you're dreaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Wondering if it's me you're seeing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And I just want to stay with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;In this moment forever, forever and ever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Don't wanna close my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I don't wanna fall asleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;'Cause I'd miss you, baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;'Cause even when I dream of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;The sweetest dream will never do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I'd still miss you, baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I don't wanna miss one smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I don't wanna miss one kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I just wanna be with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Right here with you, just like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I just wanna hold you close&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I feel your heart so close to mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And just stay here in this moment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;For all the rest of time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Don't wanna close my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I don't wanna fall a sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;'Cause I'd miss you, baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;'Cause even when I dream of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;The sweetest dream will never do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I'd still miss you, baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Don't wanna close my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I don't wanna fall a sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;'Cause I'd miss you, baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;'Cause even when I dream of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;The sweetest dream will never do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I'd still miss you, baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;And I don't wanna miss a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Don't wanna close my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;Don't wanna fall asleep, yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;I don't want to miss a thing'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Aerosmith&lt;/b&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/6154221937810061252-8179637282410452803?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8179637282410452803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8179637282410452803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-dont-wanna-miss-thing.html' title='I don&apos;t wanna miss a thing'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-2760128051587803649</id><published>2012-01-22T11:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T11:18:18.074-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="210" src="http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lhujmhzYmA1qg4nr3o1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: url(http://assets.tumblr.com/images/input_bg.gif); background-origin: initial; background-position: 50% 0%; background-repeat: repeat no-repeat; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; margin-bottom: 8px; margin-left: 12px; margin-right: 12px; margin-top: 8px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Não importa se tens estilo, reputação, poder ou dinheiro. Se não tiveres bom coração, não irás valer nada'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-2760128051587803649?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2760128051587803649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2760128051587803649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/nao-importe-se-tens-estilo-reputacao.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-3189166866565873830</id><published>2012-01-22T11:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T11:15:23.214-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="214" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxos9a3mqc1qjlbdvo1_r1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;Sonhe, mas sonhe com o objectivo de tornar&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;realidade. '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-3189166866565873830?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3189166866565873830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3189166866565873830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/dreams.html' title='dreams'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-2480017196027870852</id><published>2012-01-22T11:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T11:10:09.071-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="214" src="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ls6u0yR1YZ1qhziafo1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;'Existe&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;muita gente por aí falando muito e não fazendo nada. Esse é o problema.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-2480017196027870852?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2480017196027870852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2480017196027870852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/existe-muita-gente-por-ai-falando-muito.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-193099567914216483</id><published>2012-01-21T04:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T04:21:32.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'>enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lxwjuz54ws1r6vb2ro1_500_large" height="320" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21498583/tumblr_lxwjuz54ws1r6vb2ro1_500_large.jpg" width="280" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vou cortar o cordão umbilical de vez. Não vou escrever mais sobre nenhum assunto relacionado contigo. Sobre o quanto me&amp;nbsp;destruíste&amp;nbsp;ou o quanto quero que saibas que te odeio. Já chega e estou farta de ti, e de tudo que me lembre de ti.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-193099567914216483?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/193099567914216483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/193099567914216483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/enough.html' title='enough'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-912851330373845330</id><published>2012-01-21T04:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T04:15:37.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>é só o que quero</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="195" src="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxxcb43WT61qckcx8o1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;'Eu só quero encontrar alguém que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;seja capaz de me fazer feliz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;para o resto da minha vida.'&amp;nbsp;&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/6154221937810061252-912851330373845330?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/912851330373845330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/912851330373845330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/e-so-o-que-quero.html' title='é só o que quero'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-2054523642693360362</id><published>2012-01-21T04:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T04:14:07.458-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="223" src="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lwb00kZO6B1qmfjnfo1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;'A vida é feita de escolhas, que muitos de nós teremos que fazer, onde muitos farão escolhas certas, já outros nem sempre. Sejam elas por qual coisa for, desde escolher qual sapato comprar ou qual curso irá fazer. Apenas arrisque, escolha, porém sabendo que aquela pode ter sido a escolha errada. Mas lembre-se:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Algumas coisas aprendemos com os próprios &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;erros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"&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/6154221937810061252-2054523642693360362?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2054523642693360362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2054523642693360362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/vida-e-feita-de-escolhas-que-muitos-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7993276379674772124</id><published>2012-01-21T04:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T04:12:27.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ideal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="216" src="http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ly218ovGrA1qiho1go1_r1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;'Não desanime diante as dificuldades, obstáculos&amp;nbsp;existem para serem superados.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-7993276379674772124?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7993276379674772124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7993276379674772124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/ideal.html' title='ideal'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4686717148478932847</id><published>2012-01-19T09:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T09:29:04.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Jessie+j+hairstyles1_large" height="218" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21366795/Jessie+J+Hairstyles1_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'É triste quando um amigo se torna um estranho.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Jessie J&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-4686717148478932847?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4686717148478932847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4686717148478932847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/e-triste-quando-um-amigo-se-torna-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1100227803550524784</id><published>2012-01-19T09:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T09:28:07.385-08:00</updated><title type='text'>agora!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lxvcnxdoqx1qe599lo1_500_large" height="212" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21391403/tumblr_lxvcnxDoQX1qe599lo1_500_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Eu quero-te para agora, então, por favor, não me deixes para depois.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-1100227803550524784?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1100227803550524784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1100227803550524784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/agora.html' title='agora!'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7715120564931887110</id><published>2012-01-19T09:26:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T09:26:46.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>'Já me acostumei a ter-te nos meus pensamentos.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-7715120564931887110?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7715120564931887110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7715120564931887110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/ja-me-acostumei-ter-te-nos-meus.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7076280221911903308</id><published>2012-01-19T09:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T09:26:07.858-08:00</updated><title type='text'>estar ou não estar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_ly0lcltliv1r1iat9o1_500_large" height="320" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21391030/tumblr_ly0lcltliV1r1iat9o1_500_large.jpg" width="213" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ele está feliz sem mim, e eu devia estar também.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-7076280221911903308?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7076280221911903308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7076280221911903308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/estar-ou-nao-estar.html' title='estar ou não estar'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4167938294203085444</id><published>2012-01-19T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T09:24:49.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_ly210xu4bp1qgviyuo1_500_large" height="212" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21391168/tumblr_ly210xu4bp1qgviyuo1_500_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Não, eu não gosto dele... Tá, eu gosto um pouco... Porra! Eu gosto mesmo desse filha da mãe.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-4167938294203085444?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4167938294203085444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4167938294203085444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/nao-eu-nao-gosto-dele.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-101413385040051299</id><published>2012-01-18T12:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T12:37:59.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_ly0gz13lrz1qec3guo1_500_large" height="213" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21346208/tumblr_ly0gz13lrz1qec3guo1_500_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Amar não é aceitar tudo.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-101413385040051299?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/101413385040051299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/101413385040051299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/amar-nao-e-aceitar-tudo.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-5382689919901473514</id><published>2012-01-17T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T11:19:31.772-08:00</updated><title type='text'>fuck you!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="6709467895_9df7b26082_z_large" height="307" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21272268/6709467895_9df7b26082_z_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;então e se me deixasses em paz?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-5382689919901473514?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5382689919901473514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5382689919901473514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/fuck-you.html' title='fuck you!'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1388680722691829112</id><published>2012-01-16T07:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T07:21:29.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sex vs. love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Kiss-passion-sex-favim.com-267867_large" height="213" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21213459/kiss-passion-sex-Favim.com-267867_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Since sex got easier to get, love got harder to find.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-1388680722691829112?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1388680722691829112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1388680722691829112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/sex-vs-love.html' title='sex vs. love'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6846959872747266545</id><published>2012-01-14T08:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T08:42:54.399-08:00</updated><title type='text'>you really don't know</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lxbroddjhq1qz4d4bo1_500_large" height="224" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21101270/tumblr_lxbrodDJhq1qz4d4bo1_500_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;‘You don’t know what is like to feel so broke inside that no matter what you do, no matter what anyone else does, it can’t be fix.’&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&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/6154221937810061252-6846959872747266545?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6846959872747266545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6846959872747266545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/you-really-dont-know.html' title='you really don&apos;t know'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6709442697256536034</id><published>2012-01-14T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T08:07:17.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lxspl5vysb1qljcfvo1_500_large" height="217" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21101956/tumblr_lxspl5VYSB1qljcfvo1_500_large.png" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what's going on in my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-6709442697256536034?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6709442697256536034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6709442697256536034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-really-dont-know-whats-going-on-in-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1733551875193026432</id><published>2012-01-14T08:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T08:07:32.384-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="179" src="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lwxpjakUqq1qk93wso1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Estando aí ou estando aqui. Perto ou longe. Eu cuido de ti e sempre cuidarei.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-1733551875193026432?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1733551875193026432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1733551875193026432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/estando-ai-ou-estando-aqui.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-3809626500795780581</id><published>2012-01-14T08:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T08:07:49.354-08:00</updated><title type='text'>só mais uma vez, por favor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Boy-and-girl-couple-cute-girl-and-boy-wonderful-favim.com-266186_large" height="213" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21101470/boy-and-girl-couple-cute-girl-and-boy-wonderful-Favim.com-266186_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="quote" style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-top: 0px !important; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;Por favor, fala só mais uma vez que me ama, porque isso me traz uma sensação muito boa, e logo em seguida vem aquele arrepio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;” Fabrício Mesquita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-3809626500795780581?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3809626500795780581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3809626500795780581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-mais-uma-vez-por-favor.html' title='só mais uma vez, por favor'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8390027225045928966</id><published>2012-01-13T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T08:08:02.408-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the alphabet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lst5j0rh501ql2pwjo1_r1_500_large" height="220" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/21065626/tumblr_lst5j0rh501ql2pwjo1_r1_500_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'A girl asked a boy: What does ABCDEFG mean?&lt;br /&gt;The boy answered: A Boy Can Do Everything For Girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(but most of them forget HIJK comes afterwards: He Is Just Kidding.)'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-8390027225045928966?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8390027225045928966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8390027225045928966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/alphabet.html' title='the alphabet'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6918774392179002956</id><published>2012-01-12T07:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-12T07:07:42.604-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lxkc2sgvtk1r5mwu3o1_500_large" height="256" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/20896777/tumblr_lxkc2sgvTk1r5mwu3o1_500_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Não faz sentido latir tanto se na verdade você não tem nada a dizer.' Snoopy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-6918774392179002956?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6918774392179002956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6918774392179002956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/nao-faz-sentido-latir-tanto-se-na.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1150715419996978122</id><published>2012-01-11T10:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T10:19:59.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'>eu sei, eu sei</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="213" src="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxn8akZmLz1qim42to1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;'Eu sei que todos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-top: 0px !important; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;cometemos erros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;, sei que as coisas que vão, normalmente&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;tendem a não voltar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;, que pedir desculpas, não faz&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;esquecer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;o que aconteceu. Eu sei que o amor, não tem explicação e que é impossível viver sem ele, assim como oxigénio. Eu sei que para conseguires alguma coisa, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;tens que ir atrás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;, não esperar que alguém faça por ti. Eu sei que desistir sem ao menos ter tentado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;é covardia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;, que a distância é&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;um simples detalhe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;quando se ama de verdade, sei também que os bons momentos não têm “&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;replays&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;”, portanto, aproveita ao máximo cada momento de tua vida.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-1150715419996978122?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1150715419996978122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1150715419996978122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/eu-sei-eu-sei.html' title='eu sei, eu sei'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-802694381573985481</id><published>2012-01-11T10:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T10:07:51.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>aranhas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="300718_222031301182294_216057985112959_708921_313257_n_large" height="270" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/20941762/300718_222031301182294_216057985112959_708921_313257_n_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Existem coisas que me metem um nojo enorme: uma aranha peluda, uma ferida com demasiado sangue, vomitado de alguém que bebeu demais, alguém suado e que se abraça a mim, muitas outras. Mas no topo delas, estás tu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-802694381573985481?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/802694381573985481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/802694381573985481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/aranhas.html' title='aranhas'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-2266962549270286511</id><published>2012-01-09T11:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T11:03:08.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>chegaste, viste-me e conquistaste-me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="213" src="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxcytwQrwz1r0yljao1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chegaste à minha vida, como quem não quer nada de mim, e de repente o meu mundo parou, parei de pensar, de sentir seja o que fosse e por quem fosse senão tu. Mudaste-me. Mostraste-me um tipo de amor que nunca tinha sentido antes, um amor só nosso, único. Mostraste-me o que é o amor verdadeiro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-2266962549270286511?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2266962549270286511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2266962549270286511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/chegaste-viste-me-e-conquistaste-me.html' title='chegaste, viste-me e conquistaste-me'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7118494011724291066</id><published>2012-01-09T10:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T10:59:30.641-08:00</updated><title type='text'>true</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="212" src="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lrab7mEhM81qgx6jto1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Acontece que nem sempre temos aquilo que merecemos.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-7118494011724291066?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7118494011724291066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7118494011724291066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/true.html' title='true'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6983779438507433280</id><published>2012-01-09T09:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T09:47:25.032-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;"&gt;"Nós não queremos um rapaz com um corpo definido que vá ao ginásio todos os dias, queremos sim um rapaz com coração. Claro que pensamos na beleza mas a nossa definição de beleza pode ser, às vezes, diferente da vossa. Queremos, acima de tudo, um amigo! Alguém para assistir filmes connosco ao domingo chuvoso à tarde, queremos alguém para conversar e desabafar, alguém não só para beijar como também para abraçar. Não precisamos de presentes todos os dias. Gostamos de quando brincam com o nosso cabelo, é carinhoso. Gostamos de quando se importam com um problema de alguém da nossa família ou de algum amigo nosso mesmo que não tenha nada a ver convosco, demonstra afecto. Adoramos quando nos olham seriamente. Não queremos ser tratadas como bonecas que vocês usam numa noite e deitam fora no dia seguinte. Aliás, aprendam uma coisa: as meninas podem falar até de ficar por ficar, mas depois vão acabar por criar um sentimento. Não as façam iludir-se se não vão querer nada delas depois. As mulheres também se divertem, precisam de estar com as amigas nem que seja para uma simples fofoca, ida às compras ou ao cinema, apenas querem falar das coisas de mulheres. Temos ciúmes das vossas amigas porque somos inseguras, não é fácil ser tão segura como às vezes parecemos ser. Temos medo que encontrem alguém melhor e nos troquem, já aconteceu pelo menos uma vez na vida de qualquer uma. Gostamos de beijos inesperados, de quando nos apresentam aos vossos amigos e nos dizem 'é a minha namorada', gostamos que sintam ciúmes mas não exagerem, tudo o que é demais torna-se chato! É bom receber mensagens de madrugada com palavras sinceras, de preferência. Quando dizemos que não precisam de nos pagar o almoço, o lanche ou o jantar, é vergonha, não se preocupem com isso. Gostamos de quando tiram fotos connosco sem termos de pedir, gostamos de brincadeiras, nomes queridos e ainda mais de um beijo a meio de uma discussão, é perfeito. Não devem falar da boca para fora a meio de uma discussão e muito menos arranjar outra para nos fazer ciúmes. Quando não souberem o que dizer porque estamos tristes e a chorar, basta ficarem alí, ao pé de nós, abraçando-nos e sussurando um 'eu importo-me contigo', podem ter a certeza que será o suficiente. Sorriam, nós amamos sorrisos. Gostamos do vosso jeito desleixado de vestir, não têm que comprar roupa nova cada vez que querem vir ter connosco. Gostamos de surpresas mas nada de muito exagerado nem muito caro. Uma flor, uma música, tudo isso é o suficiente para sorrirmos o resto da semana. Precisamos de atenção cada vez que falamos, não nos troquem pelos vossos amigos, vamos sentir que vos estamos a perder e isso irá fazer-nos sentir mal. Levem-nos a festas, é bom sair! Contem-nos a vossa vida, os vossos medos, os vossos sonhos, o vosso passado, tudo isso nos interessa. Deixem-nos adormecer no vosso colo e vejam filmes românticos connosco mesmo que não gostem. Não queremos que digam que estamos lindas quando não estamos. Queremos sim, como disse lá em cima, um amigo, então, sinceridade. Gostamos de andar de mão dada, é sinal que sentem orgulho em estar ao nosso lado. E, por último, mas não menos importante: não nos conquistem se não for vossa intenção cuidar de nós.." ♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-6983779438507433280?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6983779438507433280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6983779438507433280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/nos-nao-queremos-um-rapaz-com-um-corpo.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-784217769573274120</id><published>2012-01-08T07:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T07:58:58.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lxhlctibik1qipu41o1_500_large" height="320" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/20769801/tumblr_lxhlctIBIK1qipu41o1_500_large.png" width="213" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-784217769573274120?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/784217769573274120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/784217769573274120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/it-does-not-matter-how-slow-you-go-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8766414222963110574</id><published>2012-01-07T15:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T15:29:24.869-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XSLLW2-gMmc/TwjVTfVNTiI/AAAAAAAAAKI/Z2ysynkf3lw/s1600/265305_460s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="314" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XSLLW2-gMmc/TwjVTfVNTiI/AAAAAAAAAKI/Z2ysynkf3lw/s320/265305_460s.jpg" width="320" /&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/6154221937810061252-8766414222963110574?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8766414222963110574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8766414222963110574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XSLLW2-gMmc/TwjVTfVNTiI/AAAAAAAAAKI/Z2ysynkf3lw/s72-c/265305_460s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1418227508227644134</id><published>2012-01-07T14:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T14:59:27.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>nunca mais.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="298902_238797086180290_100001500011742_669306_1806625478_n_large" height="211" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/20728703/298902_238797086180290_100001500011742_669306_1806625478_n_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Destruíste-me, sabias? Por tua culpa eu nunca mais vou ser a mesma de antes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-1418227508227644134?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1418227508227644134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1418227508227644134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/nunca-mais.html' title='nunca mais.'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8684448894870243393</id><published>2012-01-07T04:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T11:05:30.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="213" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lt6h9kUkNt1qkke70o1_r3_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;'Ela saiu pelas ruas, sem noção do tempo e sem previsão de volta. Os seus olhos estavam borrados de preto, a sua boca manchada de vermelho. Os seus seios chamavam atenção, aquela roupa apertada levava qualquer um à loucura. Numa das mãos ela levava uma garrafa de vodka. Os seus olhos tinha uma intensidade. Costumam dizer que ela é mais quente do que o fogo. Repleta de características marcantes. Aquela não era ela, era apenas uma proteção […] Talvez ela&amp;nbsp;precisasse&amp;nbsp;dele,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;mas ele não estava lá.'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-8684448894870243393?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8684448894870243393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8684448894870243393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/ela-saiu-pelas-ruas-sem-nocao-do-tempo.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8264698208821102028</id><published>2012-01-06T08:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T08:39:06.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>yes, we would</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lxdxrudqd21r9gbi8o1_400_large" height="310" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/20649521/tumblr_lxdxruDQd21r9gbi8o1_400_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, we would be so fucking perfect together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-8264698208821102028?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8264698208821102028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8264698208821102028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2012/01/yes-we-would.html' title='yes, we would'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7825807051948481035</id><published>2011-12-31T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T08:11:16.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2012</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cqwntAFrrys/Tv80Gr_Y7NI/AAAAAAAAAKA/pLn_qtic4u0/s1600/tumblr_lx2rku7zjQ1r7ehezo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cqwntAFrrys/Tv80Gr_Y7NI/AAAAAAAAAKA/pLn_qtic4u0/s320/tumblr_lx2rku7zjQ1r7ehezo1_500_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sendo hoje o último dia de 2011 é, claro, dia de fazer o tal balanço sobre o nosso ano. Bem, o meu, resumindo, foi infeliz, perdi muitas boas amizades e muitas boas pessoas e aconteceram muitos contratempos e coisas que tais. Por outro lado, fiz novas amizades, fortaleci outras, tive novos amores e abandonei os que me faziam mal, a minha&amp;nbsp;família&amp;nbsp;tornou-se mais forte e unida do que era, o mesmo se adequa à minha turma.&lt;br /&gt;2011 foi um ano razoável, 2012 será melhor. Vou começar já amanhã a fazer por isso.&lt;br /&gt;Feliz Ano Novo para quem ler isto e uma última nota: não esperem que o ano novo seja melhor se não fizerem nada por isso, ok ? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-7825807051948481035?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7825807051948481035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7825807051948481035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/2012.html' title='2012'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cqwntAFrrys/Tv80Gr_Y7NI/AAAAAAAAAKA/pLn_qtic4u0/s72-c/tumblr_lx2rku7zjQ1r7ehezo1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4840623695752737304</id><published>2011-12-30T11:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T11:07:09.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>just stop for a minute, and SMILE</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IuTofKxVSFU/Tv4Lww8g52I/AAAAAAAAAJc/y0M-Hsn_du4/s1600/tumblr_lx13rnlovI1qgx6jto1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IuTofKxVSFU/Tv4Lww8g52I/AAAAAAAAAJc/y0M-Hsn_du4/s320/tumblr_lx13rnlovI1qgx6jto1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Os meus sorrisos têm durado tão pouco tempo, que aprendi a valorizá-los mais cada vez que eles aparecem.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-4840623695752737304?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4840623695752737304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4840623695752737304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/just-stop-for-minute-and-smile.html' title='just stop for a minute, and SMILE'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IuTofKxVSFU/Tv4Lww8g52I/AAAAAAAAAJc/y0M-Hsn_du4/s72-c/tumblr_lx13rnlovI1qgx6jto1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-571500991384645006</id><published>2011-12-30T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T11:05:34.089-08:00</updated><title type='text'>true</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T_bfUTvu4zE/Tv4LW1IzrVI/AAAAAAAAAJA/VJqQYznB6eQ/s1600/tumblr_lx13v4WoQK1qgx6jto1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="216" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T_bfUTvu4zE/Tv4LW1IzrVI/AAAAAAAAAJA/VJqQYznB6eQ/s320/tumblr_lx13v4WoQK1qgx6jto1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;'A gente se costuma iludir com a mentira, quando não queremos acreditar na verdade.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-571500991384645006?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/571500991384645006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/571500991384645006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/true.html' title='true'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T_bfUTvu4zE/Tv4LW1IzrVI/AAAAAAAAAJA/VJqQYznB6eQ/s72-c/tumblr_lx13v4WoQK1qgx6jto1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8792116201960833907</id><published>2011-12-28T11:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T11:30:57.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="213" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/405243_344717598877932_129255280424166_1539435_2054545608_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-8792116201960833907?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8792116201960833907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8792116201960833907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4814487916183846301</id><published>2011-12-28T11:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T11:08:55.652-08:00</updated><title type='text'>one direction</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hFlW_tG_m5U/TvtpJVWdj7I/AAAAAAAAAI0/vSRrJw_v_g4/s1600/tumblr_lwxfevs2TT1qjcr95o6_250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hFlW_tG_m5U/TvtpJVWdj7I/AAAAAAAAAI0/vSRrJw_v_g4/s320/tumblr_lwxfevs2TT1qjcr95o6_250.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;m-e-u-d-e-u-s&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-4814487916183846301?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4814487916183846301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4814487916183846301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-direction.html' title='one direction'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hFlW_tG_m5U/TvtpJVWdj7I/AAAAAAAAAI0/vSRrJw_v_g4/s72-c/tumblr_lwxfevs2TT1qjcr95o6_250.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4981427928039117072</id><published>2011-12-28T11:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T11:06:07.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>quer?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="376944_189484634464125_121915311221058_425400_1547803667_n_large" height="240" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/20138604/376944_189484634464125_121915311221058_425400_1547803667_n_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Eu fui a uma loja chamada Migo e tinha lá um casaco lindo. Você quer casaco Migo?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;(muito original, adoro)&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/6154221937810061252-4981427928039117072?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4981427928039117072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4981427928039117072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/quer.html' title='quer?'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6662972757483778198</id><published>2011-12-23T17:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T17:55:06.872-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mm4Lyv1S33w/TvUw5qOMF0I/AAAAAAAAAIo/OhihZ2VDamw/s1600/tumblr_lwgrn5XXYe1r2pn58o1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="237" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mm4Lyv1S33w/TvUw5qOMF0I/AAAAAAAAAIo/OhihZ2VDamw/s400/tumblr_lwgrn5XXYe1r2pn58o1_400.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;simples como isto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-6662972757483778198?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6662972757483778198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6662972757483778198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/simples-como-isto.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mm4Lyv1S33w/TvUw5qOMF0I/AAAAAAAAAIo/OhihZ2VDamw/s72-c/tumblr_lwgrn5XXYe1r2pn58o1_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-403782880531407737</id><published>2011-12-21T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T10:03:17.352-08:00</updated><title type='text'>amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="195" src="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lwk0xib95P1qmdosto1_500.gif" width="400" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'E no fundo, ela sabe que não vale mais a pena esperar por esse amor.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-403782880531407737?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/403782880531407737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/403782880531407737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/amor.html' title='amor'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4196957337143077223</id><published>2011-12-20T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T10:00:54.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>♥</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jSo2bTUPvqc/TvDNLfqFX8I/AAAAAAAAAIc/-lkJoPLP0aY/s1600/401216_338614212821604_129255280424166_1516493_1576770002_n_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jSo2bTUPvqc/TvDNLfqFX8I/AAAAAAAAAIc/-lkJoPLP0aY/s320/401216_338614212821604_129255280424166_1516493_1576770002_n_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Make love save and wild.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-4196957337143077223?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4196957337143077223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4196957337143077223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/make-love-save-and-wild.html' title='♥'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jSo2bTUPvqc/TvDNLfqFX8I/AAAAAAAAAIc/-lkJoPLP0aY/s72-c/401216_338614212821604_129255280424166_1516493_1576770002_n_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8255778644804363887</id><published>2011-12-20T09:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T10:01:07.627-08:00</updated><title type='text'>yep</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OpFibOS-7tc/TvDM3IevLXI/AAAAAAAAAIU/39h_63zWH6A/s1600/295029_460s_v1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="199" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OpFibOS-7tc/TvDM3IevLXI/AAAAAAAAAIU/39h_63zWH6A/s320/295029_460s_v1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;happens too many times&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-8255778644804363887?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8255778644804363887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8255778644804363887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/happens-too-many-times.html' title='yep'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OpFibOS-7tc/TvDM3IevLXI/AAAAAAAAAIU/39h_63zWH6A/s72-c/295029_460s_v1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7325915053922229136</id><published>2011-12-20T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T08:07:45.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="290" src="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lwif3ncUh81qia0zgo1_500.jpg" width="400" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posso ter muitas flores, mas também tenho muitos espinhos. Não te esqueças disso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-7325915053922229136?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7325915053922229136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7325915053922229136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/posso-ter-muitas-flores-mas-tambem.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6690613796168727393</id><published>2011-12-17T10:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T10:31:53.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>delicioso!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="297896_269906693053109_140838495959930_786663_740901548_n_large" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/19518862/297896_269906693053109_140838495959930_786663_740901548_n_large.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atingi as 100 publicações aqui.&lt;br /&gt;Fazendo o balanço geral, reparo que 75% destas publicações foram sobre ti, tanto juras de amor eterno como textos com uma mágoa tremenda.&lt;br /&gt;Mas esses tempos já lá foram. Passo agora por ti e és-me quase&amp;nbsp;invisível, já não sinto aquela necessidade de te contar o quão feliz estou, o quão liberta me sinto.&lt;br /&gt;Já não me lembro de metade de ti: do som da tua voz que ouvia todos os dias, das tuas cicatrizes que conheci profundamente, da cor exacta dos teus olhos e do tamanho das tuas mãos comparadas com as minhas. E não sinto pena alguma, estou feliz por ter consigo chegar a este patamar de tranquilidade.&lt;br /&gt;E tudo isto, consegui sem ti. Maravilhoso, ou, tal como alguém diria, delicioso!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-6690613796168727393?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6690613796168727393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6690613796168727393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/delicioso.html' title='delicioso!'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-5339536699094798529</id><published>2011-12-12T10:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T10:29:07.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bom dia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="374211_185109564913894_157589110999273_358167_1395965427_n_large" height="223" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/19247819/374211_185109564913894_157589110999273_358167_1395965427_n_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estou a tentar parecer forte e parecer que não me magoas sempre que não me desejas os 'bons dias', mas torna-se cada vez mais&amp;nbsp;difícil quando tu nem pareces te importar comigo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-5339536699094798529?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5339536699094798529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5339536699094798529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/bom-dia.html' title='bom dia'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8312561699123850173</id><published>2011-12-12T10:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T10:26:11.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'>yes, I am</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C17ReeYkqlo/TuZHKLFNXnI/AAAAAAAAAH0/p_1ipmx_jug/s1600/295655_460s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="226" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C17ReeYkqlo/TuZHKLFNXnI/AAAAAAAAAH0/p_1ipmx_jug/s320/295655_460s.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I am trying&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-8312561699123850173?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8312561699123850173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8312561699123850173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/yes-i-am.html' title='yes, I am'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C17ReeYkqlo/TuZHKLFNXnI/AAAAAAAAAH0/p_1ipmx_jug/s72-c/295655_460s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8761970221196774575</id><published>2011-12-12T10:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T10:22:11.388-08:00</updated><title type='text'>whore</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"&gt;'Twinkle, twinkle, little whore,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;close your legs,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;they're not a door.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-8761970221196774575?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8761970221196774575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8761970221196774575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/whore.html' title='whore'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-2602800337684335721</id><published>2011-12-11T06:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-11T06:34:42.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lmumjfGtHM1qfuvoco1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;Baixa a guarda de vez em quando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-top: 0px !important; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;N&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;ão precisas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;de&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;fingir que és sempre forte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-2602800337684335721?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2602800337684335721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2602800337684335721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/12/baixa-guarda-de-vez-em-quando.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-3823909438004931993</id><published>2011-11-19T17:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T17:08:22.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>oh romeo romeo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lutfwyyzg71qke3bko1_1280_large" class="img" id="main_image" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/17948768/tumblr_lutfwyyzG71qke3bko1_1280_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;queria tanto que fosse simples, que te transformasses naquele principe tipico dos contos de fada e me viesses resgatar desta infelicidade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-3823909438004931993?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3823909438004931993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3823909438004931993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/11/oh-romeo-romeo.html' title='oh romeo romeo'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1691899829262639772</id><published>2011-11-16T11:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T11:18:27.325-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I f*cking miss you !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-1691899829262639772?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1691899829262639772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1691899829262639772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-fcking-miss-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6480182553715239920</id><published>2011-11-12T10:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T10:36:58.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="amigodoacaso:A verdade é que eu me importo, e muito. (odm)" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lshqeqsy8w1r0ufezo1_r1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;'Vocês que entram na minha vida hoje, e se deparam com o meu jeito meio frio, meio desorganizado, meio calado, meio indeciso, realmente não têm a mesma sorte daqueles que me conheceram a alguns anos atrás.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-6480182553715239920?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6480182553715239920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6480182553715239920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/11/voces-que-entram-na-minha-vida-hoje-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8483871463600842719</id><published>2011-11-12T09:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T09:41:55.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>is it true ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tsRcCGoV6Lk/Tr6vHQ1NnqI/AAAAAAAAAHs/NksiglwEfzQ/s1600/226660_700b_v2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tsRcCGoV6Lk/Tr6vHQ1NnqI/AAAAAAAAAHs/NksiglwEfzQ/s640/226660_700b_v2.jpg" width="304" /&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/6154221937810061252-8483871463600842719?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8483871463600842719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8483871463600842719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/11/is-it-true.html' title='is it true ?'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tsRcCGoV6Lk/Tr6vHQ1NnqI/AAAAAAAAAHs/NksiglwEfzQ/s72-c/226660_700b_v2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-795328868480882515</id><published>2011-11-05T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-05T10:40:19.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>parem</title><content type='html'>É incrível&amp;nbsp;como cada cada um de nós se queixa em relação a coisas como não ter dinheiro para comprar aquelas botas ou aquela casa, e que isto está muito&amp;nbsp;difícil, quando ninguém realmente faz nada para mudar as coisas. Não, não quero passar por moralista ou algo do género, mas, por amor de deus, parem de dizer que isto está&amp;nbsp;difícil&amp;nbsp;e de falar e se desculpar na crise e com crise, e comecem a fazer alguma coisa, nem que seja mudar de país, cidade ou continente ! O&amp;nbsp;euro milhões&amp;nbsp;não vos vai calhar se vocês gastarem o dobro do dinheiro a apostar nele, vai sim calhar se mudarem de vida e começarem a investir e a correr riscos em relação a alguma coisa. Sim ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-795328868480882515?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/795328868480882515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/795328868480882515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/11/parem.html' title='parem'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-370501256395985105</id><published>2011-11-05T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-05T10:33:29.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a thousand years</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img alt="X_ab035723_large" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/17225998/x_ab035723_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;'Darling don't be afraid i have loved you for a thousand years'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 3px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left;"&gt;yap, demasiado tempo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-370501256395985105?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/370501256395985105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/370501256395985105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/11/thousand-years.html' title='a thousand years'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4809007333462050046</id><published>2011-10-28T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T10:33:04.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'>finally !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NXmUlPdksTk/TqrnClBtjEI/AAAAAAAAAHk/H_0G0jwcx2Q/s1600/tumblr_ltqy0sfZQF1qhma9lo1_500_large.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="307" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NXmUlPdksTk/TqrnClBtjEI/AAAAAAAAAHk/H_0G0jwcx2Q/s320/tumblr_ltqy0sfZQF1qhma9lo1_500_large.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Apaixonei-me.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez demasiado tarde, talvez demasiado cedo.&lt;br /&gt;Não sei, estou, e pronto.&lt;br /&gt;Estou feliz, orgulhosa por ter superado traumas antigos e esperançosa que seja desta que seja verdadeiramente feliz.&lt;br /&gt;Gosto de ti.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-4809007333462050046?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4809007333462050046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4809007333462050046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/10/finally.html' title='finally !'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NXmUlPdksTk/TqrnClBtjEI/AAAAAAAAAHk/H_0G0jwcx2Q/s72-c/tumblr_ltqy0sfZQF1qhma9lo1_500_large.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-3732370962422013216</id><published>2011-10-14T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T11:38:41.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lo84cwMdDc1qiy7g2o1_r2_500.png" /&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Eu já deveria ter me curado da minha ridícula obsessão pelo amor.” Chico Buarque&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-3732370962422013216?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3732370962422013216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3732370962422013216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/10/eu-ja-deveria-ter-me-curado-da-minha.html' title=''/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-2050617899083970092</id><published>2011-10-12T09:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T09:03:12.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pois</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="464117-12-1318099674284_large" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/15895192/464117-12-1318099674284_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há dois anos tomei a pior decisão ou a melhor decisão ? Pior porque deixei-te para me focar noutra pessoa que, no fim de contas, só me fez sofrer. Melhor porque não me valorizavas e já não era feliz contigo. Por isso, melhor ou pior ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-2050617899083970092?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2050617899083970092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2050617899083970092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/10/ha-dois-anos-tomei-pior-decisao-ou.html' title='pois'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-5407376348467112239</id><published>2011-10-08T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-08T11:08:20.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>queria-te</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OVZ4BaEKiSU/TpCRhBaXe6I/AAAAAAAAAGs/6kIQ5etdAtk/s1600/queria.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OVZ4BaEKiSU/TpCRhBaXe6I/AAAAAAAAAGs/6kIQ5etdAtk/s320/queria.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Queria tanto poder abraçar-te, beijar-te e dar-te a mão enquanto passeamos. Queria saber tudo sobre ti, medos, desejos, ódios, amores, tudo. Queria-te a ti, sempre, ao meu lado, a dizer que ficarás comigo até que a morte nos separe, ou a dizer que simplesmente nunca me irás largar. Queria tanto.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-5407376348467112239?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5407376348467112239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5407376348467112239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/10/queria-te.html' title='queria-te'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OVZ4BaEKiSU/TpCRhBaXe6I/AAAAAAAAAGs/6kIQ5etdAtk/s72-c/queria.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-353072931839591043</id><published>2011-09-29T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T07:19:06.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>cookie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_ls8ym10tch1qb2dpgo1_500_large" class="img" id="main_image" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/15375704/tumblr_ls8ym10TCH1qb2dpgo1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo quando estou no computador ou no sofá e te roças em mim, pedindo miminhos, fazendo de mim uma almofada e roronando o mais alto que puderes. Amo quando janto e decides tomar banho no meu colo enquanto me arranhas as pernas e o peito e deixando-me com as marcas mais vincadas que conseguires. Amo que, como agora, enquanto te escrevo isto estás a dormir pacificamente no meu colo e não te importas com a mãe, que ralha contigo sempre que aqui estás. &lt;br /&gt;Já te amo muitissimo gata, apesar de te ter á relativamente pouco tempo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-353072931839591043?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/353072931839591043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/353072931839591043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/09/cookie.html' title='cookie'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-5077535743161761295</id><published>2011-09-28T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T07:59:09.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>crowd</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tumblr_lrqgqivs0r1qbx8e0o1_500_large" class="img" id="main_image" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/15104559/tumblr_lrqgqivS0r1qbx8e0o1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já te começo a procurar na multidão e a esperar que procures por mim também.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-5077535743161761295?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5077535743161761295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5077535743161761295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/09/crowd.html' title='crowd'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6735861624041154215</id><published>2011-09-12T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T06:09:05.385-07:00</updated><title type='text'>adeus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nmbJmI0RaaI/Tm4ERIKGMSI/AAAAAAAAAGo/qEDA1YN2Q1w/s1600/36094270_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nmbJmI0RaaI/Tm4ERIKGMSI/AAAAAAAAAGo/qEDA1YN2Q1w/s1600/36094270_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Tive o melhor verão até agora, fui feliz, muito feliz.&lt;br /&gt;E tu ? Tu foste a minha desilusão de verão e não vou voltar para ti. Gostei de ti. Adeus 'melhor amigo'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-6735861624041154215?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6735861624041154215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6735861624041154215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/09/adeus.html' title='adeus'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nmbJmI0RaaI/Tm4ERIKGMSI/AAAAAAAAAGo/qEDA1YN2Q1w/s72-c/36094270_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8241716336930182124</id><published>2011-07-03T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T09:46:27.348-07:00</updated><title type='text'>verão !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tXDDW0WktDc/ThCc2wTB1rI/AAAAAAAAAGk/a_OUQqRWouQ/s1600/ver%25C3%25A3o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tXDDW0WktDc/ThCc2wTB1rI/AAAAAAAAAGk/a_OUQqRWouQ/s320/ver%25C3%25A3o.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Querido blog,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 35.4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Foste o meu desabafo durante cerca de 6 meses, o meu companheiro de lágrimas e de felicidade, causaste algumas discussões, mas todas resolvidas e bem esquecidas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Chegou o verão e dentro disso, chega a praia, as saídas, o cansaço, os escaldões e a minha falta de tempo para escrever. Por isso desculpa-me, vou entrar em ‘modo de verão’, vemo-nos outra vez em Setembro. Não fiques chateado comigo, gosto muito de ti,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Inês&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/6154221937810061252-8241716336930182124?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8241716336930182124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8241716336930182124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/07/verao.html' title='verão !'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tXDDW0WktDc/ThCc2wTB1rI/AAAAAAAAAGk/a_OUQqRWouQ/s72-c/ver%25C3%25A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-5069609497614441425</id><published>2011-07-01T04:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T04:53:23.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>amor verdadeiro</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKf5SqNkohs/Tg21KhJGXdI/AAAAAAAAAGg/q76DetMgz1g/s1600/amor+verdadeiro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKf5SqNkohs/Tg21KhJGXdI/AAAAAAAAAGg/q76DetMgz1g/s320/amor+verdadeiro.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;Já não acredito no amor. Na paixão, no amor momentâneo, acredito, mas no amor verdadeiro, aquele que nos faz felizes todos os dias, que leva alguém a desejar aquilo para sempre e a casar com alguém, que leva alguém a dizer 'amo-te', um 'amo-te' sentido, todos os dias, nisso não, já não acredito.&lt;br /&gt;Tornei-me em ti. Sempre lutei tanto para deixares de pensar como sempre pensaste, mas tudo o que tu e mais uns quantos (des)amores e paixonetas fogosas que tive, me fizeram passar e sofrer, me desiludiram, me deixaram sem a mínima vontade de me apaixonar de novo, tornaram-me em ti. Nessa pessoa cheia de medos e muros que não deixa ninguém entrar, que não deixa ninguém quebrar a barreira que em tempos achei uma estupidez, mas que agora acho totalmente certa, correcta, e que não quero, nem posso, deixar ninguém quebrar. &lt;br /&gt;De certa forma, o que é que eu ganho em estar uns meses apaixonada por uma pessoa, em estar outros tantos meses com essa pessoa, se mais tarde ou mais cedo tudo vai acabar e eu vou sair magoada, outra vez ? Não vale a pena. Tudo aquilo que eu acreditava caiu por terra, não sei quando nem porquê, mas foi-se. Agora acredito que esse amor verdadeiro e esse para sempre com alguém só existe para vender filmes e fazer telenovelas, porque no final de contas, todos os amores que iremos ter deixarão de o ser e todos aqueles que pensávamos que iríamos passar o resto da vida com, vão tornar-se desconhecidos, seja pela razão que for, e iremos acabar a sofrer porque caímos outra vez na estupidez de nos apaixonarmos outra vez.&lt;br /&gt;Tornei-me me ti e tu em mim, ironia, ou, pensando melhor, carma ? Não sei. Estou bem assim, acho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-5069609497614441425?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5069609497614441425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5069609497614441425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/07/amor-verdadeiro.html' title='amor verdadeiro'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKf5SqNkohs/Tg21KhJGXdI/AAAAAAAAAGg/q76DetMgz1g/s72-c/amor+verdadeiro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6825832807685340809</id><published>2011-06-27T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T10:11:14.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it hurts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TLCRj7uZMwQ/Tgi5pE-zNXI/AAAAAAAAAGc/vUPJCw5_WKo/s1600/it+hurts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TLCRj7uZMwQ/Tgi5pE-zNXI/AAAAAAAAAGc/vUPJCw5_WKo/s320/it+hurts.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;'- Why can't you stop thinking and start follow your heart?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;- Because he broke my heart. It hurts. I don't want to go through that again. I don't think I could stand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;- I think you should try one more time.'&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&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/6154221937810061252-6825832807685340809?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6825832807685340809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6825832807685340809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/it-hurts.html' title='it hurts'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TLCRj7uZMwQ/Tgi5pE-zNXI/AAAAAAAAAGc/vUPJCw5_WKo/s72-c/it+hurts.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-2657261322898352745</id><published>2011-06-22T08:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T08:46:46.238-07:00</updated><title type='text'>grenade</title><content type='html'>Sinto que já sei pouco de ti, que tens cada vez menos vontade de falar de comigo e o que os 'para sempre' que prometeste tantas vezes não passam disso, promessas que não se irão tornar realidade. Todos os medos que tinha estão a tornar-se realidade. Já estou cansada de lutar, mas sabes que estarei sempre aqui. Pedia-te para nunca te esqueceres de mim, mas começa a tornar-se inevitável, mas não te esqueças que um dia te amei e que foste muito importante para mim. Amo-te muito, melhor amigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;(a grenade será sempre a nossa música, e eu não o digo com orgulho.)&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/6154221937810061252-2657261322898352745?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2657261322898352745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2657261322898352745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/grenade.html' title='grenade'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-5261059153388903365</id><published>2011-06-16T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T16:18:43.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mentira</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xzN4Po7brHY/TfqPDaFLwkI/AAAAAAAAAGI/z3phM4jbmww/s1600/mentira.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xzN4Po7brHY/TfqPDaFLwkI/AAAAAAAAAGI/z3phM4jbmww/s320/mentira.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;'Dá-me vontade de te ter a meu lado, vendo-te a olhar para mim.&lt;br /&gt;Sei que estou apaixonado, mas não posso ficar assim.&lt;br /&gt;Deitado num rochedo canto para ti. Como um pássaro livre que voa sem fim.&lt;br /&gt;Porque é que a vida nos trama. Quando alguém se ama? Ter de partir e&amp;nbsp;não poder sorrir.&lt;br /&gt;Porque é que choras? Porque é que dizes o meu nome? Sem nunca me poderes tocar?&lt;br /&gt;Tenho saudades de te ver, vontade de te abraçar, sozinho tocando uma guitarra junto ao mar.&lt;br /&gt;Recordo-me de ti&amp;nbsp;e imagino porquê. A tua cara a flutuar.&lt;br /&gt;Porque é que a vida nos fascina? Tantas vezes nos domina? Acreditar que no amor não se sente a dor. Mas é mentira!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;João Pedro Pais&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-5261059153388903365?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5261059153388903365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5261059153388903365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/mentira.html' title='mentira'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xzN4Po7brHY/TfqPDaFLwkI/AAAAAAAAAGI/z3phM4jbmww/s72-c/mentira.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-5670415220584245427</id><published>2011-06-15T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T17:52:21.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>perdão</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8RoLiVuJn4o/TflTremoffI/AAAAAAAAAGE/6RWB-7xrA7c/s1600/perdoar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8RoLiVuJn4o/TflTremoffI/AAAAAAAAAGE/6RWB-7xrA7c/s320/perdoar.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;Sabes que me desiludiste, não sabes ? O que disseste não se diz a ninguém, nem mesmo a brincar. Brincaste com o meu medo e disseste o que sentes sem pensar. Agora não me venhas com bajulações, não é isso que me vai fazer perdoar-te.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-5670415220584245427?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5670415220584245427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5670415220584245427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/perdao.html' title='perdão'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8RoLiVuJn4o/TflTremoffI/AAAAAAAAAGE/6RWB-7xrA7c/s72-c/perdoar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8359960648092285314</id><published>2011-06-14T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T17:12:22.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'gosti'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eKwNlGvL8so/Tff40TQoCOI/AAAAAAAAAGA/2_AOo3TStj8/s1600/malta+%252838%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="319" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eKwNlGvL8so/Tff40TQoCOI/AAAAAAAAAGA/2_AOo3TStj8/s320/malta+%252838%2529.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Muito obrigado por me teres feito rir como uma tontinha de novo. Estou ansiosa por ouvir a tua voz de novo, por sentir de novo os teus abraços e os teus beijos, por estar contigo de novo. Gosto muito de ti. E quero sempre o melhor para ti, só te quero ver feliz. Não te esqueças de mim, m ponto a.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-8359960648092285314?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8359960648092285314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8359960648092285314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/gosti.html' title='&apos;gosti&apos;'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eKwNlGvL8so/Tff40TQoCOI/AAAAAAAAAGA/2_AOo3TStj8/s72-c/malta+%252838%2529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7253058061150141845</id><published>2011-06-14T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T17:05:49.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'>leave me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DzLpZsldosI/Tff3L-wvxKI/AAAAAAAAAF8/UVrWLk4b4qY/s1600/fuck+you.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DzLpZsldosI/Tff3L-wvxKI/AAAAAAAAAF8/UVrWLk4b4qY/s320/fuck+you.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Só me&amp;nbsp;quero deitar na minha cama, fechar os olhos,&amp;nbsp;conseguir parar de chorar, adormecer e só acordar quando deixar de sentir isto. Até lá, &lt;strong&gt;deixa-me em paz, &lt;/strong&gt;my fucking prince.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-7253058061150141845?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7253058061150141845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7253058061150141845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/leave-me.html' title='leave me'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DzLpZsldosI/Tff3L-wvxKI/AAAAAAAAAF8/UVrWLk4b4qY/s72-c/fuck+you.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-250208484791439130</id><published>2011-06-13T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T16:45:42.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sorry</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sMBB7rlsInk/Tfag-wyNYtI/AAAAAAAAAF4/pouRYyqn-zE/s1600/sorry.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="238" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sMBB7rlsInk/Tfag-wyNYtI/AAAAAAAAAF4/pouRYyqn-zE/s320/sorry.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;'I’m sorry I constantly want to talk to you. I’m sorry when you take long to reply, I get sad. I’m sorry if I say things that might piss you off. I’m sorry if I come as annoying. I’m sorry if you don’t wanna talk to me as much as I wanna talk to you. I’m sorry if I think about you too much and too often. I’m sorry if I tell you about my pointless drama when you don’t really care. I’m sorry if I come off as being clingy, but it's just me missing you.'&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/6154221937810061252-250208484791439130?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/250208484791439130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/250208484791439130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m sorry'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sMBB7rlsInk/Tfag-wyNYtI/AAAAAAAAAF4/pouRYyqn-zE/s72-c/sorry.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1366516973215486309</id><published>2011-06-13T05:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T05:32:04.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>traumatizada</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_J0Qfc3fno4/TfYDPYYjsrI/AAAAAAAAAF0/DNfrkaahDPE/s1600/traumatizada.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_J0Qfc3fno4/TfYDPYYjsrI/AAAAAAAAAF0/DNfrkaahDPE/s320/traumatizada.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;Ela era tão forte, nunca tinha medo de se entregar totalmente a outra pessoa, queria sempre ser feliz e nunca hesitava em relação ao amor. Mas, após dezenas de corações partidos, de lágrimas derramadas e de dor, ela ganhou medos, ganhou traumas, ganhou incertezas. Ela ainda cria aqueles contos de fadas com princesas presas nas torres mais altas em que o seu príncipe encantado a vai salvar num cavalo branco; mas quando chega a altura de os tornar realidade, ela volta a si, ela desce á terra e volta a ter medo, volta ao seu casulo, de onde antes não tinha medo algum de sair. Ela criou á sua volta uma barreira, um muro, onde só vive ela e os seus sonhos, onde não deixa ninguém entrar com medo de sofrer de novo. &lt;br /&gt;Ela ainda acredita no 'para sempre', sim, nisso acredita, ainda acredita em príncipes e no amor, mas continua com medo de sofrer, de passar mal, de chorar tardes inteiras, outra vez. &lt;br /&gt;Ela só está á espera que o seu príncipe apareça e que a faça esquecer todos os traumas que tem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-1366516973215486309?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1366516973215486309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1366516973215486309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/traumatizada.html' title='traumatizada'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_J0Qfc3fno4/TfYDPYYjsrI/AAAAAAAAAF0/DNfrkaahDPE/s72-c/traumatizada.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-2457448886202785468</id><published>2011-06-13T05:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T05:16:03.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tonto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--09TnuMedpQ/TfX_cbuLRaI/AAAAAAAAAFw/tohz5SDpYl0/s1600/tumblr_lfzrvkDZml1qedvb2o1_500_large.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="279" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--09TnuMedpQ/TfX_cbuLRaI/AAAAAAAAAFw/tohz5SDpYl0/s320/tumblr_lfzrvkDZml1qedvb2o1_500_large.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;'A verdade é que quando amamos alguém nem sempre guardamos esse amor. Mas tu tiveste sorte, tens sempre sorte comigo porque tenho sempre tempo e vontade de te ver e de te ouvir, nunca deixei de ser tua amiga e a tua melhor confidente, como se o amor que tive por ti nunca me tivesse traído. Somos assim, confiamos um no outro apesar da distância, das tuas hesitações, do medo e do lugar vazio que vamos deixando ao nosso lado.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Margarida Rebelo Pinto&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/6154221937810061252-2457448886202785468?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2457448886202785468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2457448886202785468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/tonto.html' title='tonto'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--09TnuMedpQ/TfX_cbuLRaI/AAAAAAAAAFw/tohz5SDpYl0/s72-c/tumblr_lfzrvkDZml1qedvb2o1_500_large.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6559004318028876375</id><published>2011-06-10T07:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T05:04:03.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fazes-me falta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_QZTaxux_tw/TfIko_8e-4I/AAAAAAAAAFs/xSomsUP96_Y/s1600/591738-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="209" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_QZTaxux_tw/TfIko_8e-4I/AAAAAAAAAFs/xSomsUP96_Y/s320/591738-001.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;E&amp;nbsp;se eu disser que senti e sinto a tua falta ? &lt;br /&gt;E se eu disser que procurei por ti em todos os rapazes que lá estavam ?&lt;br /&gt;E se eu disser que quero mesmo estar contigo ?&lt;br /&gt;Irá mudar alguma coisa ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-6559004318028876375?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6559004318028876375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6559004318028876375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/fazes-me-falta.html' title='fazes-me falta'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_QZTaxux_tw/TfIko_8e-4I/AAAAAAAAAFs/xSomsUP96_Y/s72-c/591738-001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7442818160806062232</id><published>2011-06-04T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T05:04:16.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>colada</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hBuWXP02cEM/Tepf7-BmTyI/AAAAAAAAAFo/-2EFjKlaXvc/s1600/tumblr_lgdfpkZNtL1qfclyto1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hBuWXP02cEM/Tepf7-BmTyI/AAAAAAAAAFo/-2EFjKlaXvc/s320/tumblr_lgdfpkZNtL1qfclyto1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Disseste-me centenas de vezes que íamos ficar juntas '4ever', inclusive, escreveste-o nos meus ténis, e continua lá. Fizeste-me não acreditar nos meus melhores amigos, aqueles que realmente se importavam comigo, e realmente me amavam, aqueles que ainda continuam comigo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Sempre te considerei uma das minhas melhores amigas, mesmo depois do que fizeste quando não estive cá, e acreditei em ti quando disseste que não fizeste nada na minha ausência, nem tentaste. Acreditei porque era ingénua o suficiente para acreditar que, quando me olhaste nos olhos, e negaste tudo, estavas a dizer a verdade, toda a verdade, e que todas aquelas que disseram que o fizeste, só nos queriam separar e não me mereciam. E eu continuei contigo, virando as costas àquelas que, no final de contas, eram quem tinha razão quando diziam que tu não prestas, que és falsa, tal como o teu cabelo ou as tuas unhas, e que me enganaste, o tempo todo. E eu, ingénua como sou, sempre acreditei em ti. Até acabares por me dar uma facada nas costas, a mim, e ao meu melhor amigo, que era (e é) totalmente apaixonado por ti. Nunca, nunca me vou esquecer o que nos fizeste passar, nunca vou esquecer aquela hora em que só conseguíamos chorar, um no ombro do outro, porque tu decidiste fazer o que te apeteceu na altura, e nem sequer pensaste em nós. A partir daí, consegui ver quem realmente eras, e nunca mais acreditei em ti, nem mesmo quando estavas doente, acreditei em alguma coisa do que dizias ter e sentir. E continuo na dúvida se estavas ou não assim tão doente, finges tão bem, mentes tão bem, que me deixas completamente estupefacta com tudo aquilo que és e eu nunca consegui ver, verdadeiramente. E só obtive a verdadeira resposta do que fizeste nas minhas costas, quando o perguntei à outra pessoa envolvida, e ele admitiu tudo, o que tentaste fazer e que sempre negaste ter feito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Desde que te foste embora, só te vi duas vezes. Na primeira, estavas a limpar mesas de um café do qual fui cliente, chocámos, sem querer, e fizemos o sorriso mais falso que cada uma conseguia fazer na altura. Na segunda vez, estavas a trabalhar também, reconheci-te e virei-te a cara. Não com medo que me visses, mas porque já não significas nada para mim. És apenas a namorada de um dos meus melhores amigos, e já não vais passar a ser nada mais que isso. Magoaste-me muito, e nunca vais ter noção do que isso é, porque, sinceramente, acho que nunca tiveste uma melhor amiga igual à que vi em ti. E não sei se sabes o que é realmente amar alguém, mas espero que aprendas, a sério que sim. Não te desejo mal, apesar de tudo. Quero que sejas feliz, e grande parte dessa felicidade, passa por admitires todos os teus erros, pedires desculpa a toda a gente que magoaste, que foi muita, e tentares melhorar, pois sem essa mudança, não vais conseguir ter quem te ame realmente pelo que és. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;É sincero tudo o que aqui te escrevo, não penses que é um texto irónico ou cínico. Pois, apesar de toda a mágoa que deixaste em mim, não consigo esquecer os bons momentos que passámos juntas, apesar de o querer fazer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-7442818160806062232?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7442818160806062232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7442818160806062232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/colada.html' title='colada'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hBuWXP02cEM/Tepf7-BmTyI/AAAAAAAAAFo/-2EFjKlaXvc/s72-c/tumblr_lgdfpkZNtL1qfclyto1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-3702847077749481826</id><published>2011-06-02T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T13:38:15.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>forte (?)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZRuLjJMGdIM/Tef0dzIr6bI/AAAAAAAAAFk/4B5hfoEZBE0/s1600/miss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="210" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZRuLjJMGdIM/Tef0dzIr6bI/AAAAAAAAAFk/4B5hfoEZBE0/s320/miss.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Estou tão cansada de ser forte e de segurar todas as lágrimas que querem escorrer pela minha face. Estou tão cansada de fingir que estou bem. E não estou, não estou nada bem. Sinto saudades tuas todos os dias, sinto vontade de chorar todos os dias, preciso de um abraço e de um 'vai ficar tudo bem' ou 'vais conseguir ultrapassar isto' ou ainda 'eu acredito em ti, e acredito que és forte’, todos os dias. E não tenho isso, e faço-me de mais forte, só mais um dia. Só mais um, até não aguentar com tanta saudade, tanta dor. 'Dizer que tenho saudades tuas já começa a ser pouco'.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-3702847077749481826?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3702847077749481826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3702847077749481826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/06/forte.html' title='forte (?)'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZRuLjJMGdIM/Tef0dzIr6bI/AAAAAAAAAFk/4B5hfoEZBE0/s72-c/miss.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-609769379587573912</id><published>2011-05-27T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T12:09:45.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dia da criança</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W5MgS9K_u5w/Td_2Y0qSYlI/AAAAAAAAAFg/zRxna4dNkvE/s1600/tumblr_leq5mhZ1jJ1qdrm2so1_400_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W5MgS9K_u5w/Td_2Y0qSYlI/AAAAAAAAAFg/zRxna4dNkvE/s320/tumblr_leq5mhZ1jJ1qdrm2so1_400_large.jpg" width="261" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: PT; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"&gt;Esta noite sonhei contigo. Vinhas cá a casa e pedias-me para te fazer o almoço, e eu cozinhava-te a minha especialidade: ovos estrelados com batata frita (só mesmo em sonho). Conseguia sentir o teu toque e o teu cheiro, ouvia-te rir como já não ouço á tempo demais, e ouvia-te dizer o que me dizias sempre ‘estás cada vez mais magra e mais alta, qualquer dia viras modelo’ e eu sorria, porque sabia que só dizias isso para me fazeres sentir bem, não por ser magra, mas por querer sempre ser mais alta do que sou e por querer seguir esse sonho.&lt;br /&gt;Acordei e pensei que era mesmo real e que estes meses sem ti é que tinham sido o sonho, aliás, o pesadelo. Mas nos segundos seguintes, percebi que não. Já não cá estás há quase dois meses e eu ainda não consegui superar a falta que me fazes. Ainda adormeço com lágrimas nos olhos e a querer que voltes, preciso tanto de ti, de quando me davas beijinhos, e eu me sentava ao teu colo e me sentia outra vez aquela criança pequenina, protegida pelo seu avô, o seu grande, carinhoso e bondoso avô, que nunca lhe disse não, que sempre a tratou como uma princesa, que criou uma família enorme, unida como é raro de ver, e que inspirou tanta gente. &lt;br /&gt;Ainda me lembro do que disseram naquele horrível dia: que devias ser uma boa pessoa, para ter ido tanta gente á tua despedida. E eras, e continuas a ser, nos corações daqueles que te continuam a amar como se ainda aqui estivesses. E só consigo pensar que o dia da criança, o teu dia, está a chegar, e vai ser o primeiro ano da minha vida em que não estás cá e não vou poder dar-te um beijinho, desejar-te os parabéns e que os teus olhos não se vão encher de lágrimas quando te cantarmos os parabéns. Eu amo-te e sinto muito a tua falta, és e serás sempre o homem mais importante da minha vida.&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/6154221937810061252-609769379587573912?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/609769379587573912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/609769379587573912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/dia-da-crianca.html' title='dia da criança'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W5MgS9K_u5w/Td_2Y0qSYlI/AAAAAAAAAFg/zRxna4dNkvE/s72-c/tumblr_leq5mhZ1jJ1qdrm2so1_400_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4213504589360145154</id><published>2011-05-26T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T11:19:45.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>irritante</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VUzxmZj6xqE/Td6ZDD3o5iI/AAAAAAAAAFc/I5BkbBdJR_g/s1600/tumblr_lfq79cZA5Y1qajjdco1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VUzxmZj6xqE/Td6ZDD3o5iI/AAAAAAAAAFc/I5BkbBdJR_g/s320/tumblr_lfq79cZA5Y1qajjdco1_500_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;O ano passado, quando discutimos a primeira vez, a minha melhor amiga disse-me uma frase que nunca esqueci: porquê que eu sei que daqui a meia hora vocês já estão bem ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;E é verdade. Seja a gravidade da discussão ou o motivo desta, não conseguimos estar mais de dois dias zangados um com o outro. Porquê ? Não sei, também gostaria de saber, não sou assim com toda a gente e gostava de saber o segredo. Ou se calhar não há segredo, se calhar é apenas a nossa compatibilidade em acção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;Seja como for, eu gosto muito de ti, preciso de ti, e não consigo estar chateada contigo, por mais grave que tenha sido a discussão, e isso chega a irritar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 7.5pt;"&gt;(não, não estamos apaixonados, a imagem não corresponde totalmente aos sentimentos, é amizade, apenas.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="right" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="right" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-4213504589360145154?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4213504589360145154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4213504589360145154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/irritante.html' title='irritante'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VUzxmZj6xqE/Td6ZDD3o5iI/AAAAAAAAAFc/I5BkbBdJR_g/s72-c/tumblr_lfq79cZA5Y1qajjdco1_500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-3830869305858193524</id><published>2011-05-23T13:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T13:30:53.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>control freak</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QH-9Uy4qvpw/TdrD9Bq-gkI/AAAAAAAAAFY/tBt6fO7eof0/s1600/control+freak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QH-9Uy4qvpw/TdrD9Bq-gkI/AAAAAAAAAFY/tBt6fO7eof0/s320/control+freak.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Sabes ? Eu sei exactamente aquilo pelo qual estás a passar. Também já fui assim. Mas cresci e mudei. Já fiz essas cenas, dezenas de vezes, mas a vida e um outro amor ensinaram-me que não vale a pena, não vale mesmo a pena ser assim, e que temos que confiar na outra pessoa, senão, para quê estar com ele, se não depositamos nele a nossa confiança total ? Não me interpretes mal, não digo que és uma criança ou que precises de crescer, não. Nada disso. Apenas te quero dizer que te compreendo e que sei o que é ter esses ciúmes descontrolados e a necessidade de ter sempre tudo sob o nosso controlo e por isso sei por aquilo que passas quando o vês a falar com outra e quando sabes que ele é importante para outra, sei, e digo-te, não vale a pena, só irás causar discussões e ninguém gosta disso, ninguém gosta de se sentir preso e quando se sentem assim, eles só querem soltar-se, qual animal enjaulado que só pensa na sua liberdade. Deves dar-lhe espaço, deixá-lo ter saudades tuas, sentir a tua falta, do teu riso, do teu toque, do teu cheiro, assim irá ter vontade de estar contigo, o oposto do que acontece quando o controlas. Mas também não o deixes ser um passarinho livre, tens que lhe dar liberdade, mas também não lhe dar muita, senão, quando deres por isso, já o soltaste demasiado e ele já não quer voltar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Lê o que te escrevo, não vale a pena ser &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;a control freak&lt;/i&gt;, só o vais perder, só vais fazer com que o ‘amor da tua vida’ se afaste e perca a vontade de estar contigo. E não leves a mal, não escrevo isto para proveito próprio, só os quero ajudar, só vos quero ver felizes, ele é o meu melhor amigo, e acima de tudo, só o quero ver sorrir, ser feliz, e tu deixa-lo assim, quando tudo está bem.&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/6154221937810061252-3830869305858193524?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3830869305858193524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/3830869305858193524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/control-freak.html' title='control freak'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QH-9Uy4qvpw/TdrD9Bq-gkI/AAAAAAAAAFY/tBt6fO7eof0/s72-c/control+freak.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8811547721583143819</id><published>2011-05-21T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T11:59:06.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rapaz-fortaleza</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SvV-4NFNKMU/TdgLcVxPbnI/AAAAAAAAAFU/MtZJfHQ6HwU/s1600/rapaz-fortaleza.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="190" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SvV-4NFNKMU/TdgLcVxPbnI/AAAAAAAAAFU/MtZJfHQ6HwU/s320/rapaz-fortaleza.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Sinto muitas saudades tuas, tenho imensa vontade de falar contigo e de perguntar como estás, porque noto que não estás bem. Mas magoaste-me tanto, fizeste-me passar por tanta dor, deixaste tantos traumas em mim e dentro do meu coração aparentemente forte, mas que é tão fraco quão um fio de cabelo. Eu quero saber de ti e quero contar-te o que se passa comigo, mas não o faço, não por orgulho, mas por saber que vou passar por tudo outra vez. Tu não mudas, não sabes ser outra pessoa comigo, comigo mostras sempre essa face de rapaz-fortaleza, que ninguém deita abaixo, mas esqueces-te que já te conheci melhor que ninguém, que foste durante muito tempo, demasiado até, a pessoa que eu mais amava e em quem mais confiava. Tentas mostrar-me que mudaste, que eu fiz de ti um rapaz-fortaleza, que ninguém te destrói e que conquistas quem queres, quando queres e que a podes deixar sem o mínimo remorso, o mínimo sentimento mau.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Desiludes-me sempre que és esse rapaz-fortaleza, porque eu conheço-te e sei que não és assim. Tentas ensinar-me a ser assim como tu, mas na realidade não o és e é só uma das múltiplas máscaras que usas para esconder quem és e todas as tuas fragilidades. E quando eu te peço um conselho porque não sei o que fazer com a minha vida, tu dizes-me como esse rapaz-fortaleza iria agir, e não como tu, o rapazinho frágil, pequenino e com um coração enorme, faria. E saber que finges ser outra pessoa e finges ser feliz assim, destroça-me, destrói-me, porque sei que sou a culpada de grande parte dessa mudança. Por isso, desculpa-me ter-te tornado nesse rapaz-fortaleza, mas não te peço desculpa por não falar contigo e fingir que não te conheço, porque ainda me destróis e traumatizas, e isso é o que menos preciso agora. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;E não te esqueças que te adoro, e que, quando decidires deitar essa máscara de rapaz-fortaleza fora, eu estarei aqui, como sempre estive, à tua espera, à espera que chores no meu ombro e me digas, me admitas, que o que fizeste foi errado, que não és assim e que prometas que não me fazes sofrer outra vez, e que cumpras a promessa.&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/6154221937810061252-8811547721583143819?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8811547721583143819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8811547721583143819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/rapaz-fortaleza.html' title='rapaz-fortaleza'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SvV-4NFNKMU/TdgLcVxPbnI/AAAAAAAAAFU/MtZJfHQ6HwU/s72-c/rapaz-fortaleza.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1875430415554523002</id><published>2011-05-21T03:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T03:56:51.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>já chega</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sGEp0x3mGxw/TdeaatIbnrI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/e4TG2WO5gbI/s1600/bon+voyage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sGEp0x3mGxw/TdeaatIbnrI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/e4TG2WO5gbI/s1600/bon+voyage.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;(…) E não, não vou pedir desculpa por já te ter superado e a todos os traumas que deixaste em mim. Adeus, e desta vez, para sempre.&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/6154221937810061252-1875430415554523002?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1875430415554523002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1875430415554523002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/ja-chega.html' title='já chega'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sGEp0x3mGxw/TdeaatIbnrI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/e4TG2WO5gbI/s72-c/bon+voyage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-221958038394196197</id><published>2011-05-18T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T14:00:22.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>principe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eExA8U8H9Jc/TdQzXOLrGzI/AAAAAAAAAFM/fpvRh0tLELU/s1600/principe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eExA8U8H9Jc/TdQzXOLrGzI/AAAAAAAAAFM/fpvRh0tLELU/s320/principe.jpg" width="293" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Porquê que continuas a sussurrar-me ao ouvido ? Porquê que continuas a apoiar a tua cabeça no meu ombro ? Porquê que continuas a pedir-me coisas, a deixar-me atrapalhada e a tocares na minha mão sempre que te dou o que queres ? &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Porquê que continuas a chegar-te perto de mim e a fazeres-me sentir o teu perfume e a deixares-me doida ? E porquê que eu continuo a deixar-me levar, a querer estar contigo, a sentir borboletas no estômago e as pernas a tremer sempre que te chegas perto ? Porquê que me lembro de ti sempre que falam em olhos azuis ou nas séries que vês ? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Talvez eu não te tenha esquecido realmente. Talvez não tenha querido esquecer-te porque quero arriscar ser feliz contigo. Talvez ainda me deixes agitada com tudo o que fazes e dizes porque eu quero estar contigo. E não é o caso de não te conseguir esquecer, porque, se eu realmente o quisesse, já te tinha esquecido. E acho que posso arriscar dizer que és diferente, não no mau lado, mas no bom lado. És especial, és tu, és o meu príncipe de olhos claros, e eu acho que estou a começar a sentir algo por ti, algo que não sei se me irá fazer bem ou mal, se será correspondido ou se será vivido com todas as suas forças, porque já sei o que pensas, o que queres e não queres, e eu quero mudar isso. E vou mudar.&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/6154221937810061252-221958038394196197?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/221958038394196197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/221958038394196197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/principe.html' title='principe'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eExA8U8H9Jc/TdQzXOLrGzI/AAAAAAAAAFM/fpvRh0tLELU/s72-c/principe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6538857987208746807</id><published>2011-05-17T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T06:49:04.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>em</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt; &lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_fF1FD5L80s/TdJ8tKQ06dI/AAAAAAAAAFI/7e0COx-VqM8/s1600/m+ponto+a.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_fF1FD5L80s/TdJ8tKQ06dI/AAAAAAAAAFI/7e0COx-VqM8/s320/m+ponto+a.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Sei e decoro datas de tudo, de aniversário, em que acaba ou começa alguma coisa, de primeiros beijos, de primeiros dias de aulas, de testes, de saídas, de guerras, de discussões, de estreias de filmes, de tudo. Mas há sempre aquelas datas que nunca consegui decorar, ou quando chego ao dia, esqueço-me completamente do dia que é. Uma delas é a do teu aniversário. Desculpa, mas estás longe, e, de certa forma, já não tens na minha vida a importância que tinhas á dois anos atrás, e quando chega a dezoito de Janeiro (acertei ?) simplesmente não me lembro e passa-me ao lado, e quando me dizes que já fizeste dezassete anos eu sinto-me um trapo, por me ter esquecido de algo tão importante para ti, como o teu aniversário … &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Como as coisas mudam não é ? Talvez á dois anos atrás me lembrava de quando fazias anos, e era capaz de ser a primeira a dar-tos, mas agora afastámo-nos, estás noutra escola, parece que noutra vida, e eu já não consigo ser o que era para ti, antes. Desculpa-me se sou muito directa, mas é a verdade, e sabes que sou sincera. Tenho muitas saudades tuas, dos teus olhos claros e dos teus abraços e beijinhos quando preciso, e voltar a falar contigo foi o melhor que me aconteceu nestas últimas semanas, mas, enquanto continuares distante da minha vista e, consequentemente, do meu coração, irás estar afastado da minha memória também. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Mas eu quero mudar isso, a sério que sim, quero que voltes a ser o meu m ponto a, que voltes a ligar-me sempre que precisas de falar e a tocar guitarra para mim quando estou mais em baixo, quero que voltes para mim, para o meu coração e para a minha memória. Mas para isso, tanto eu como tu, temos que mudar muita coisa, e ambos temos noção disso. E ontem, quando disseste que me amavas, juro que me veio uma lágrima aos olhos, tenho tantas saudades tuas, tantas. Nunca te esqueças de mim, e do que já foste para mim. Adoro-te muito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-6538857987208746807?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6538857987208746807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6538857987208746807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/em.html' title='em'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_fF1FD5L80s/TdJ8tKQ06dI/AAAAAAAAAFI/7e0COx-VqM8/s72-c/m+ponto+a.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7650188842659746904</id><published>2011-05-12T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T13:42:57.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>promessa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LUxCBVde43M/TcwKtZLl7xI/AAAAAAAAAFE/IccG4n0ZxpY/s1600/maio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LUxCBVde43M/TcwKtZLl7xI/AAAAAAAAAFE/IccG4n0ZxpY/s320/maio.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Ele e ela viviam um autêntico conto de fadas, os dois apaixonados um pelo outro e felizes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Ela foi três dias para fora, sem notícias algumas de Portugal, só sabendo que o Benfica era campeão daquela época através do único canal português da televisão do seu quarto de hotel. Nestes três dias viajou bastante, passou horas e horas fechada no carro, a ouvir as suas músicas e a pensar no seu grande amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Enquanto ela andava longe, teve tempo, muito tempo para pensar na sua ‘relação’ e tomou uma decisão que ou iria mudar a sua vida para muito bem, ou para muito mal: falar com ele, e dizer-lhe que queria muito mais que apenas ser sua amiga especial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Quando chegou a Portugal, passou pela terrinha dele e viu-o, no autocarro, feliz, a rir, como sempre está. E falou com ele, por mensagens, ao fim de mais de três dias sem o fazer. E decidiu adiar a sua decisão para o dia seguinte, quando estivessem frente a frente. E no próximo dia, quando o viu e quando falou com ele, pessoalmente, perdeu a coragem e as forças para falar com ele, e não o fez, adiando mais e mais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Mas, no dia 12 de Maio, eles tiveram aula de substituição e saíram mais cedo da primeira aula, aí, ela ganhou coragem:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;- Preciso de falar contigo, e é sério.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;- Diz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;- Acho que já percebeste que não ando bem, e preciso de saber, e nós ? Como ficamos ? Não consigo estar mais assim. Quero mais, não quero ser só tua amiga colorida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;- Não sei, não consigo, sabes disso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;- Tens a certeza ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;- Não, mas não consigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;- Ok. – disse ela, virando-lhe as costas e pensando, com lágrimas nos olhos, que tinha acabado, que tinha sido a última conversa com o seu grande amor e que só queria sair dali, antes que as lágrimas lhe escorressem pela cara.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Eles tiveram dois meses sem falar, só dirigindo a palavra para algo indispensável e necessário e só falando uma vez, quando se viram na feira de diversões da sua cidade, e falando apenas de banalidades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Ela chorou dias a fio, tremia só de pensar que tinha acabado e desistiu, desistiu por breves momentos dele, do seu grande amor, e prometeu que nunca mais ia sofrer por causa dele e que tinha sido a sua última conversa. Mas quebrou essa promessa.&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/6154221937810061252-7650188842659746904?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7650188842659746904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7650188842659746904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/promessa.html' title='promessa'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LUxCBVde43M/TcwKtZLl7xI/AAAAAAAAAFE/IccG4n0ZxpY/s72-c/maio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7124329632052595996</id><published>2011-05-11T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T13:42:57.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fiancé</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yPwVz8c-jHY/TcrvebIG4WI/AAAAAAAAAFA/VeBYAdvfc3w/s1600/casamento.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yPwVz8c-jHY/TcrvebIG4WI/AAAAAAAAAFA/VeBYAdvfc3w/s320/casamento.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Ainda sou ingénua o suficiente para acreditar que o amor é para sempre e que os casamentos são eternos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Por isso mesmo quero que o meu seja perfeito, melhor ainda que o da Kate. E tu sabes disso, já falamos e já combinámos várias vezes onde, como, quando iria ser o nosso, como íamos vestidos, onde ia ser a nossa lua-de-mel, onde íamos viver depois e os nomes dos nossos pequeninos. E eu acredito nisso, acredito que iremos ficar para sempre juntos e que quando tu dizes que vais fazer com que os meus sonhos todos se concretizem, desde que não me case de cor-de-rosa, como sempre quis, é porque o vais fazer, ou pelo menos tentar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;E quando eu digo que nos vamos casar e que estaremos juntos até sermos velhinhos, não o digo por gostarmos um do outro e ter essa esperança, não, é porque eu sei, acredito que estamos destinados um ao outro por sermos tão iguais. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;E quando eu digo isto a alguém dizem-me, várias vezes, 'vocês falam tanto disso que ainda se vão casar, mesmo a sério'. E eu acredito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-7124329632052595996?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7124329632052595996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7124329632052595996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/fiance.html' title='fiancé'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yPwVz8c-jHY/TcrvebIG4WI/AAAAAAAAAFA/VeBYAdvfc3w/s72-c/casamento.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-2535761700310531940</id><published>2011-05-10T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T06:32:08.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>familia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FDIkxBgqkiQ/Tck-TyZNJ3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/z_GrE0Ubias/s1600/skins.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="219" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FDIkxBgqkiQ/Tck-TyZNJ3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/z_GrE0Ubias/s320/skins.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Sinto-me bem com aquela gente. Aquele grupo de pessoas tão diferentes mas tão ligadas por uma amizade imensa faz-me sentir bem comigo própria, faz-me sentir pertencente a algum lugar que gosta de mim pelo que sou, pelas parvoíces que digo e por tudo o que sinto. Agora só falta ser acolhida e considerarem-me como mais um membro daquela família feliz.&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/6154221937810061252-2535761700310531940?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2535761700310531940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/2535761700310531940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/familia.html' title='familia'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FDIkxBgqkiQ/Tck-TyZNJ3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/z_GrE0Ubias/s72-c/skins.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-7420072444333897149</id><published>2011-05-07T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T06:05:05.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>embeiçados</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5njR3vYl308/TcVDdSAleiI/AAAAAAAAAE4/waT3zH-gkUA/s1600/embei%25C3%25A7ados.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5njR3vYl308/TcVDdSAleiI/AAAAAAAAAE4/waT3zH-gkUA/s320/embei%25C3%25A7ados.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT; mso-themecolor: text1;"&gt;Ela tem boca torta, nariz grande, cabelo mal cortado, rói as unhas, usa cunhas, mas eu estou apaixonado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT; mso-themecolor: text1;"&gt;Ele tem espinhas, sardas, pontos negros, e uma boca exagerada, desafina e desatina mas eu estou apaixonada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT; mso-themecolor: text1;"&gt;Ela é ciumenta, rabugenta, embirrenta e tagarela, intriguista e moralista mas eu estou louco por ela.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT; mso-themecolor: text1;"&gt;Ele faz cenas gagas, altas fitas, não tem confiança em mim, faz-se caro, faz-me trombas, mas eu gosto dele assim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT; mso-themecolor: text1;"&gt;Diz-se que o amor é cego, deforma tudo a seu jeito, mas eu acho que o amor descobre o lado melhor do que parece defeito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT; mso-themecolor: text1;"&gt;Diz-se que o amor é cego...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT; mso-themecolor: text1;"&gt;Porque eu gosto, gosto dele. E ela gosta, gosta de gostar de mim!&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/6154221937810061252-7420072444333897149?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7420072444333897149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/7420072444333897149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/embeicados.html' title='embeiçados'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5njR3vYl308/TcVDdSAleiI/AAAAAAAAAE4/waT3zH-gkUA/s72-c/embei%25C3%25A7ados.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-848410171487387192</id><published>2011-05-05T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T12:26:14.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hábito</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s80EknYnpXE/TcL5bqX4taI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Tobv4qKE_E0/s1600/h%25C3%25A1bito.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s80EknYnpXE/TcL5bqX4taI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Tobv4qKE_E0/s320/h%25C3%25A1bito.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;O hábito tomou conta dela. Já se habitou a ter o coração partido, &amp;nbsp;a chorar sempre que sente a almofada debaixo da cabeça, a sorrir quando o que mais quer fazer é chorar. Habituou-se a acordar todos os dias sem saber o que fazer, por quem lutar e por quem desistir, a ter saudades de momentos que parece que foram vividos numa outra vida, numa realidade distante, e a levantar-se e erguer a cabeça, mostrar que está bem, quando não o está.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;E ela agora está tão habituada a ter o coração aos pedacinhos que tem medo de arriscar com alguém novo. E só consegue pensar que esse alguém novo lhe irá partir o coração de novo e deixá-la à base de cereais e chocolate, filmes românticos e músicas melancólicas&amp;nbsp;durante tardes e noites inteiras. E quer arriscar, quer mesmo, mas não consegue. Está habituada a ter o coração partido&amp;nbsp;mas está a tentar deixar velhos hábitos, está a tentar colá-lo de novo, sozinha, &amp;nbsp;apesar de a cola ser frágil e quebrar facilmente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-848410171487387192?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/848410171487387192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/848410171487387192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/habito.html' title='hábito'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s80EknYnpXE/TcL5bqX4taI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Tobv4qKE_E0/s72-c/h%25C3%25A1bito.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1958445049004895758</id><published>2011-05-04T12:56:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T12:56:43.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>how many people ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JDSBj2kGZT8/TcGvach1vrI/AAAAAAAAAEs/SSR1ubGkGeo/s1600/tumblr_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JDSBj2kGZT8/TcGvach1vrI/AAAAAAAAAEs/SSR1ubGkGeo/s320/tumblr_.jpg" width="265" /&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/6154221937810061252-1958445049004895758?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1958445049004895758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1958445049004895758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/how-many-people.html' title='how many people ?'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JDSBj2kGZT8/TcGvach1vrI/AAAAAAAAAEs/SSR1ubGkGeo/s72-c/tumblr_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4049460360032396610</id><published>2011-05-04T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T12:57:36.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8BUviHF1W-g/TcGvIIGhkBI/AAAAAAAAAEo/IQeIqKh-2a8/s1600/party%252Cdance%252Cfun%252Cgirls%252Cdaisy%252Cdoll%252Ctumblr%252Ccom-fc9cac79008c6d60146d4478b6a69c69_h_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8BUviHF1W-g/TcGvIIGhkBI/AAAAAAAAAEo/IQeIqKh-2a8/s320/party%252Cdance%252Cfun%252Cgirls%252Cdaisy%252Cdoll%252Ctumblr%252Ccom-fc9cac79008c6d60146d4478b6a69c69_h_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;I just wanna da-an-an-ance, I don't really ca-a-a-are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-4049460360032396610?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4049460360032396610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4049460360032396610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/dance.html' title='dance'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8BUviHF1W-g/TcGvIIGhkBI/AAAAAAAAAEo/IQeIqKh-2a8/s72-c/party%252Cdance%252Cfun%252Cgirls%252Cdaisy%252Cdoll%252Ctumblr%252Ccom-fc9cac79008c6d60146d4478b6a69c69_h_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-4371848745923230384</id><published>2011-05-03T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T09:56:10.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>escada</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="236" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xLyqWx1_gdw/TcAznXLIw3I/AAAAAAAAAEk/ddk6D6v5yuk/s320/ilus%25C3%25A3o.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT;"&gt;'A escada levava a uma nuvem na qual não existia nada, apenas ar condensado, uma ilusão feita de algodão sem peso nem estrutura. Uma nuvem imensa feita de ilusões que pairava sobre o meu mundo, roubando-lhe o Sol e ofuscando-me de todos os outros prazeres da vida. Vivia num labirinto, uma enorme armadilha que montara a mim própria. Por causa disso vivi situações intoleráveis, aguentei atitudes inaceitáveis, deixei-me enfraquecer, esperei e desesperei até não esperar mais nada, perdi peso e auto-estima. Até perceber que estava errada.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT;"&gt;Margarida Rebelo Pinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT;"&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/6154221937810061252-4371848745923230384?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4371848745923230384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/4371848745923230384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/escada.html' title='escada'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xLyqWx1_gdw/TcAznXLIw3I/AAAAAAAAAEk/ddk6D6v5yuk/s72-c/ilus%25C3%25A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-1949913498777421632</id><published>2011-05-01T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T12:59:51.014-07:00</updated><title type='text'>não acredito</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OJIuKSrCkSY/Tb27rV_bFeI/AAAAAAAAAEg/Plaqj52XATM/s1600/v%25C3%25B4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OJIuKSrCkSY/Tb27rV_bFeI/AAAAAAAAAEg/Plaqj52XATM/s320/v%25C3%25B4.jpg" width="217" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Só queria poder voltar atrás no tempo um ano, um pequenino ano. Sabendo o que sei agora e por aquilo que já estavas a passar. Se soubesse que te ia perder no dia 1 de Abril deste ano, tentava estar mais tempo contigo, tentava ir a tua casa senão todos os dias, todas as semanas. Pedia para me ensinares a falar francês e a tocar viola. Pedia para me contares as tuas inúmeras aventuras enquanto emigrante, filho, pai, avô e grande homem que és. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Desculpa se ainda não consegui ir a tua casa depois daquele dia, desculpa se ainda não consigo usar vermelho (apesar de sempre ter achado isso de não usar cores muito berrantes uma estupidez), desculpa se quando me refiro a ti ainda uso o presente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Sinto que se começar a referir-me&amp;nbsp;a ti no passado, admito que já foste e que tenho que me despedir de ti, para sempre, e simplesmente, ainda não o consigo fazer. Já te perdi á um mês, mas ainda não consigo acreditar. Não acredito. Parece que ainda ouço a tua voz, ainda sinto o teu cheiro, o teu toque, os teus beijinhos, ainda te ouço rir e chorar quando te cantamos os parabéns. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;E daqui a exactamente um mês fazes anos, vai ser o primeiro dia da criança da minha vida que não te vou poder dizer 'parabéns vô', e talvez seja ai que tenha a noção que foste embora, para sempre, e que eu ainda não me despedi de ti. Amo-te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-1949913498777421632?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1949913498777421632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/1949913498777421632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/05/nao-acredito.html' title='não acredito'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OJIuKSrCkSY/Tb27rV_bFeI/AAAAAAAAAEg/Plaqj52XATM/s72-c/v%25C3%25B4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-123194261637342073</id><published>2011-04-30T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T07:20:15.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tired</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u0w57frttq8/TbwaU6RybfI/AAAAAAAAAEc/N8KD-_6IKyM/s1600/tired.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u0w57frttq8/TbwaU6RybfI/AAAAAAAAAEc/N8KD-_6IKyM/s1600/tired.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;I'm really, really tired.&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/6154221937810061252-123194261637342073?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/123194261637342073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/123194261637342073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/04/tired.html' title='tired'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u0w57frttq8/TbwaU6RybfI/AAAAAAAAAEc/N8KD-_6IKyM/s72-c/tired.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-6461302329526825715</id><published>2011-04-29T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T07:58:33.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>foi</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8-p7k0_Ndf0/TbrR9xpe2CI/AAAAAAAAAEY/nefHneAhysY/s1600/tumblr_lddskmuo7s1qbwxizo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="222" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8-p7k0_Ndf0/TbrR9xpe2CI/AAAAAAAAAEY/nefHneAhysY/s400/tumblr_lddskmuo7s1qbwxizo1_500.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Não resultou. Não sei o porquê nem quero saber. Se calhar foi melhor assim, haviam demasiados 'se' e 'mas'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Espero que um dia sejas feliz, a sério, mas, acima de tudo, espero que eu um dia seja feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Quanto a mim agora ? Vou fazer o que (não) sei fazer de melhor: enfiar a cabeça nos livros, tentar sorrir e tentar fingir que tudo está bem. Não gosto que tenham pena de mim e não quero que percebas que não estou bem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-6461302329526825715?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6461302329526825715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/6461302329526825715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/04/foi.html' title='foi'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8-p7k0_Ndf0/TbrR9xpe2CI/AAAAAAAAAEY/nefHneAhysY/s72-c/tumblr_lddskmuo7s1qbwxizo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-5339075691994336853</id><published>2011-04-28T12:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-28T12:10:17.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>e agora ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eH7DooZ0Sio/Tbm7e5HwdoI/AAAAAAAAAEU/RECEiH1H4HM/s1600/tumblr_lffbnaYThd1qaobbko1_500-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="211" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eH7DooZ0Sio/Tbm7e5HwdoI/AAAAAAAAAEU/RECEiH1H4HM/s320/tumblr_lffbnaYThd1qaobbko1_500-2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Quero e não quero. Tenho medo. Demasiado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Dá-me tempo, apesar de não o termos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Espera por mim, apesar de não saber se o fazes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Preciso de tempo, já passei por muito e tenho medo. Muito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Demasiada confusão na minha cabeça para escrever seja o que for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Gosto de ti, acho eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6154221937810061252-5339075691994336853?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5339075691994336853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/5339075691994336853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/04/e-agora.html' title='e agora ?'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eH7DooZ0Sio/Tbm7e5HwdoI/AAAAAAAAAEU/RECEiH1H4HM/s72-c/tumblr_lffbnaYThd1qaobbko1_500-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8714778326634589010</id><published>2011-04-26T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T09:05:03.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>principe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x5s6EmucxBU/TbbsZ-qEIMI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/oXOxCb05fWs/s1600/tumblr_l6hsiceckx1qd0f16o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" i8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x5s6EmucxBU/TbbsZ-qEIMI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/oXOxCb05fWs/s320/tumblr_l6hsiceckx1qd0f16o1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;Voltei a apaixonar-me. Por outra pessoa sem seres tu. Sempre achei isso impossível mas aconteceu. Mas este texto não é sobre ti, já chegam de textos sobre ti. Este texto é para e é sobre o meu príncipe de olhos claros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;Hoje voltei a ver-te, ao fim de quase duas semanas sem ter sequer um vislumbre de ti. Senti de novo aquele aperto no coração, as pernas a tremer e a voz fraquinha. Tive tanto medo de perder isto nas férias, mas afinal não perdi, e ficou mais forte. Acreditas ? Eu só acreditei quando me sorriste, quando me olhaste e quando falaste para mim, ao fim de tanto tempo. Acredita, és tu quem eu quero agora, és o meu príncipe de olhos claros que desejei tanto que chegasse e que me resgatasse para outra vida, outra paixão, outro amor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;É sério, isto é sério, não penses que é apenas mais uma ilusão do meu coração estúpido. Gosto mesmo de ti, e isso não vai mudar tão cedo. És tu agora o protagonista constante de todos os meus sonhos, quer esteja acordada ou a dormir profundamente. Agora apenas quero desfrutar disto que sinto ao teu lado, pertinho de ti, sempre.&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/6154221937810061252-8714778326634589010?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8714778326634589010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8714778326634589010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/04/principe.html' title='principe'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x5s6EmucxBU/TbbsZ-qEIMI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/oXOxCb05fWs/s72-c/tumblr_l6hsiceckx1qd0f16o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6154221937810061252.post-8023483973280994724</id><published>2011-04-20T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T17:05:00.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rr</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WAd06ZWG9Mg/Ta90TzzhC-I/AAAAAAAAAEM/LmREKe_AYoY/s1600/desilus%25C3%25A3o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" i8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WAd06ZWG9Mg/Ta90TzzhC-I/AAAAAAAAAEM/LmREKe_AYoY/s400/desilus%25C3%25A3o.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"&gt;Consegues sempre desiludir-me, consegues sempre deitar-me a baixo, consegues sempre fazer-me chorar. Mesmo depois de tudo o que passei contigo, mesmo depois de pensar que nada em ti ou nada do que dizes, não me afecta. Mas afecta e eu não consigo deixar de me sentir um farrapo por tua causa. Porquê que tens sempre que me dizer que não presto ? Porquê que tens sempre que dizer que sou uma otária por não conseguir aquilo que quero ou por ser tímida ou outra coisa qualquer ? Esse estúpido dom que tens de me fazer sentir sempre uma inútil deixa-te feliz é isso ? Ao deitares-me abaixo e fazeres-me sentir insignificante sentes-te tu próprio a melhor pessoa do mundo ? Ou simplesmente é vingança ? É isso ? Queres fazer-me sentir mal por eu ter acabado contigo é ? Não te chega saber o que sofri durante meses e meses por tu me tratares exactamente como me tratas agora ? &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Desculpa lá se te fiz sofrer durante 3 semanas até encontrares outra, enquanto eu sofri durante a maior parte do ano e nove meses que andámos ! E eu disse que queria voltar a ser tua amiga e que tinha saudades tuas, não disse ? Esquece isso, esquece-me. Deixa-me em paz. Não preciso que me trates mal. Não preciso de ti para nada. Sei cuidar muito bem de mim e tenho quem me deixe feliz sem me deitar abaixo. Adeus, não voltes. Não fales comigo.&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/6154221937810061252-8023483973280994724?l=neccas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8023483973280994724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6154221937810061252/posts/default/8023483973280994724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neccas.blogspot.com/2011/04/rr.html' title='rr'/><author><name>Inês Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tLwMwQwEYXw/Tpm8ojQtUlI/AAAAAAAAAG0/c8ZLVXJe1aI/s220/ver%25C3%25A3o%2B%25283%2529.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WAd06ZWG9Mg/Ta90TzzhC-I/AAAAAAAAAEM/LmREKe_AYoY/s72-c/desilus%25C3%25A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
