<?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-3397566</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:21:08.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'>refletindo</title><subtitle type='html'>...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>166</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-91129176</id><published>2003-03-21T08:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2003-03-21T08:01:00.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is the last entry , I'm giving up of this blog because I'm not  excited  about it anymore  , my life is going through a caothic time  . I acctually 'havent got time even to sleep,  besides my computer can't  connect to internet anymore and  I won't buy a new modem  so early.&lt;br /&gt;bye &lt;br /&gt;and I thank all the people that ever visited this blog. (if there is someone  who used to. &lt;br /&gt;este é o fim do meu blog .\ Nao tenho mais net  e nao vou ter tao cedo  cedo. Minha vida esta  caotica  e nao tenho mais animo pra isso. &lt;br /&gt;rose , escreva pra mim to com sauades....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rose , escreva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blueblues@ig.com.br&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blueblues@&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-91129176?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/91129176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/91129176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91129176' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-91129173</id><published>2003-03-21T08:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-03-21T08:01:00.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is the last entry , I'm giving up of this blog because I'm not  excited  about it anymore  , my life is going through a caothic time  . I acctually 'havent got time even to sleep,  besides my computer can't  connect to internet anymore and  I won't buy a new modem  so early.&lt;br /&gt;bye &lt;br /&gt;and I thank all the people that ever visited this blog. (if there is someone  who used to. &lt;br /&gt;este é o fim do meu blog .\ Nao tenho mais net  e nao vou ter tao cedo  cedo. Minha vida esta  caotica  e nao tenho mais animo pra isso. &lt;br /&gt;rose , escreva pra mim to com sauades....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rose , escreva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blueblues@ig.com.br&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blueblues@&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-91129173?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/91129173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/91129173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91129173' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-91129131</id><published>2003-03-21T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-03-21T08:00:17.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is the last entry , I'm giving up of this blog because I'm not  excited  about it anymore  , my life is going through a caothic time  . I acctually 'havent got time even to sleep,  besides my computer can't  connect to internet anymore and  I won't buy a new modem  so early.&lt;br /&gt;bye &lt;br /&gt;and I thank all the people that ever visited this blog. (if there is someone  who used to. &lt;br /&gt;este é o fim do meu blog .\ Nao tenho mais net  e nao vou ter tao cedo  cedo. Minha vida esta  caotica  e nao tenho mais animo pra isso. &lt;br /&gt;rose , escreva pra mim to com sauades....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rose , escreva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blueblues@ig.com.br&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blueblues@&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-91129131?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/91129131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/91129131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#91129131' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-88210635</id><published>2003-01-29T08:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-01-29T08:17:54.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Se vc soubesse o vazio que a tua ausencia deixou por tras daquele vidro pelo qual eu  ia te ver de longe... Agora nem tenho tua imagem de consolo, vc será apenas uma lembrança nessa minha cabeça de vento.  Essa noite tive um sonho . Sonhei que vc tinha me mandado de presente uma linda caixa com uma caixinha de música . UIma música tão linda que ecoava pelos comodos da minha casa . E tinha um cartão onde vc dizia: "descobri seu segredo.." . Mas eu acordei, amanheceu chovendo na cidade.&lt;br /&gt;Estou agora numa prisão e minha pena é me lembrar de vc cada vez que ouço os Smiths.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-88210635?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/88210635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/88210635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88210635' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-87559452</id><published>2003-01-16T15:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-01-16T15:45:26.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;The crazy weather of Sao Paulo  sometimes annoys me. The tar on the street can be melting from the heat today but tomorrow it can be such a frosty day.&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing more annoying than walk on the street  in a rush , when you're having one of those days, without an umbrella and  it starts to shower in your head after a too sunny afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;I tought : " Until the nature is against me ! "&lt;br /&gt;I just hope  I don't catch a cold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-87559452?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/87559452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/87559452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87559452' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-87488225</id><published>2003-01-15T10:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-01-15T11:01:52.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;My mother is driviling the whole afternoon and get very angry because  I can't hear what she says. I just hear her when she's silent and I read her eyes carefully like she reads mine, listening what lips can't say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-87488225?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/87488225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/87488225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87488225' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-86655244</id><published>2002-12-29T02:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-29T02:30:44.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tenho estado distante deste blog a um bom tempo.&lt;br /&gt; Nao tenho tido tempo , nao tenho tido animo. &lt;br /&gt;Alem disso as contas de luz aqui em casa tem &lt;br /&gt;sido altissimas e eu resolvi parar com essa &lt;br /&gt;neurose e colocar em dia algumas leituras de &lt;br /&gt;ferias. Ferias ... que ferias? Tenho estado &lt;br /&gt;nervosa com trabalho , tenho tido uns problemas&lt;br /&gt; familiares , meus amigos me abandonaram , né&lt;br /&gt; Rose...estou com uma grande decepcao amorosa &lt;br /&gt;e cometi um crime hackeriano por causa disso.&lt;br /&gt; estou com raiva do mundo. Minhas noites tem &lt;br /&gt;sido mal dormidas , estou com olheiras,&lt;br /&gt; me perguntando se deus esqueceu de mim. Ouvindo Smiths &lt;br /&gt;sonhando com o que poderia ter sido mas nao foi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-86655244?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/86655244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/86655244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#86655244' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85863984</id><published>2002-12-11T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-11T15:58:49.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.tramamusical.hpg.com.br/eu2.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho colocado estas musicas no blog porque elas representam o que eu sinto. Legal eu estar tendo tempo para me dedicar mais ao meu violão que estava esquecido num canto do quarto. O problema é que no meu repertório nao há nada popular e as pessoas acabam se enchendo de me ouvir, já que não sei tocar nenhuma da Celine Dion.&lt;br /&gt; Ah mas esta semana aconteceu algo muito legal , eu fui no shopping Tatuape com a minha amiga  para comprar um Cd . Ou dos Smiths ou da Adriana Calcanhoto ou da Norah Jones. E nao e que quando desço do carro eu acho 10 reais? O suficiente para eu comprar Perfil da Adriana . Legal né?&lt;br /&gt;I've written these songs in my blog because they represent how I feel.  like Goethe says in "Werther" . " It is like I was reading my own heart ..."&lt;br /&gt;It's nice . Now I have time to dedicate myself to my guitar that was left in the corner of my room for months. The Smiths and Fiona Apple have been in my list . &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85863984?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85863984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85863984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#85863984' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85591858</id><published>2002-12-06T06:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-06T06:21:48.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;O que é a vida além deste  finito número de horas preenchidas &lt;br /&gt;com o batimento deste fio trêmulo do coração ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Inspiração minha  surgida após ler Fernando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fumaça do Spleen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho assim cá comigo, &lt;br /&gt;Uns pensamentos feitos de fumaça ,&lt;br /&gt;Eles geralmente aparecem no cair da noite &lt;br /&gt;e se dispersam durante a madrugada &lt;br /&gt;quando me ofuscam os olhos os raios solares, &lt;br /&gt;quando eu tenho que fingir que ainda vivo&lt;br /&gt;e tenho de preencher as horas com coisas&lt;br /&gt;coisas, que na maioria das vezes não quero fazer.&lt;br /&gt;A vida é bela , o filme é " a vida é bela "&lt;br /&gt;Não a vida é bela.&lt;br /&gt;É bela no retrato ,&lt;br /&gt;Onde se imortaliza sorriso , onde somos sempre jovens&lt;br /&gt;Se tudo fosse lindo &lt;br /&gt;Não haveriam poetas e tudo seria muito chato&lt;br /&gt;Talvez então eu seja feliz.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22:40&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não vou mais derramar lágrimas em vão,&lt;br /&gt;O que é pior.&lt;br /&gt;O pior é quando se chora por dentro.&lt;br /&gt;Isso traz consequências terríveis eu sei.&lt;br /&gt;Está tudo gasto já.&lt;br /&gt;Esta casa , este caminho , esta lembrança, esta estupidez.&lt;br /&gt;O silêncio no corredor as vezes é surpreendido por um desejo,&lt;br /&gt;(Que também ficará gasto e deseparecerá como todos os outros).&lt;br /&gt;Só restará sempre o silêncio no corredor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Bluesgirl- 06/12/2002)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85591858?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85591858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85591858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#85591858' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85554722</id><published>2002-12-05T12:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-05T12:48:50.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>rose, kd vc?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85554722?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85554722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85554722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#85554722' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85554676</id><published>2002-12-05T12:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-05T12:41:54.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fdsfsdsdfsdfsdsdf&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85554676?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85554676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85554676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#85554676' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85430484</id><published>2002-12-03T07:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-06T06:24:17.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.autopsicografia.hpg.com.br/eu4.gif"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;nice caricature of mine!!! ah&lt;br /&gt;gente essa é a minha caricatura!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85430484?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85430484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85430484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#85430484' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85430483</id><published>2002-12-03T07:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-12-05T11:46:07.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85430483?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85430483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85430483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#85430483' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85262164</id><published>2002-11-29T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-29T10:24:03.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Pero Me Acuerdo De Ti"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora que ya mi vida se encuentra normal, ooh, ooh&lt;br /&gt;Que tengo encasa quien suena con verme llegar, ooh, oh&lt;br /&gt;Ahora puedo decir que me encuentro de pie&lt;br /&gt;Ahora que me va muy bien&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora que con el tiempo logre superar, hmm&lt;br /&gt;Aquel amor que por poco me llega a matar, no&lt;br /&gt;Ahora ya no hay mas dolor&lt;br /&gt;Ahora el fin vuelvo a ser yo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[1] - Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Y otra vez pierdo la calma&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Y se me desgarra el alma&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Y se borra mi sonrisa&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Y mi mundo se hace trizas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, oh, hey&lt;br /&gt;Ahora que me futuro comienza a brillar, hmm-mm&lt;br /&gt;Ahora que me han devuelto la seguridad, oh, whoa&lt;br /&gt;Ahora ya no hay mas dolor&lt;br /&gt;Ahora al fin vuelvo a ser yo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Repeat 1]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, whoa&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, no&lt;br /&gt;Y se me desgarra el almo&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Mi sonrisa&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Mi mundo trizas&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Ooh&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Oh pero me, pero me, pero me, pero me&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti&lt;br /&gt;Oh, whoa&lt;br /&gt;Pero me acuerdo de ti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85262164?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85262164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85262164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#85262164' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85115611</id><published>2002-11-26T09:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-26T09:07:15.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sabe quando vc esta em cima de um penhasco e observa uma vista linda com um a cachoeira? Vc fica com um certo medo de se atirar mas depois manda o medo pelos ares e diz : "dane-se meu medo", porque aquela vista e tao maravilhosa que vc nao quer perder a oportunidade de desfrutar daquilo e se atira apesar de um certo friozinho na barriga?Mas dai acontece algo  e vc acaba se machucando, ralando o braco, torcendo o pe ou batendo a cabeca em alguma pedra? Pois é...dai vc pensa : "Nao devia ter pulado" . Vc fica com aquela dorzinha aguda , o olho lacrimejando , sua mae te xingando e pensa que nunca mais voltará para aquele lugar . É assim que estou me sentindo. Estou toda arranhada e me sentindo uma tola.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85115611?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85115611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85115611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#85115611' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85114998</id><published>2002-11-26T08:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-26T08:50:00.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Aquele a quem você confia seu segredo torna-se&lt;br /&gt;senhor de sua liberdade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85114998?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85114998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85114998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#85114998' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85078321</id><published>2002-11-25T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-25T15:35:24.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Adoro a Adriana Calcanhoto, adoro os Smiths , ah preciso renovar meu acervo de cds....&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adriana Calcanhotto&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pelos ares&lt;br /&gt;(Adriana Calcanhotto/ Antônio Cícero)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não lhe peço nada &lt;br /&gt;Mas se acaso você perguntar&lt;br /&gt;Por você não ha o que eu não faça &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guardo inteira em mim&lt;br /&gt;O casa que mandei &lt;br /&gt;Um dia &lt;br /&gt;Pelos ares&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a reconstruo em todos os detalhes &lt;br /&gt;Intactos e implacáveis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eis aqui &lt;br /&gt;Bicicleta, planta, céu&lt;br /&gt;Estante cama e eu &lt;br /&gt;Logo estará&lt;br /&gt;Tudo no seu lugar &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eis aqui&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate, gato, chão &lt;br /&gt;Espelho, luz, calção &lt;br /&gt;No seu lugar &lt;br /&gt;Pra ver você chegar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;encontrei um site muito legal , vc faz um teste e logo depois tem como resultado  a sua personalidade artística eu sou:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mundoinsano.no.sapo.pt/index.html/" target="new"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://mundoinsano.no.sapo.pt/index.html" target="new"&gt; &lt;img src="http://mundoinsano.no.sapo.pt/dali.gif" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;font face="verdana" size=1&gt; Faça você também &lt;a href="http://mundoinsano.no.sapo.pt/index.html" target="new"&gt;Que &lt;br /&gt;  gênio-louco é você? &lt;/a&gt; Uma criação de &lt;a href="http://www.abyssinia.blogspot.com"&gt;O Mundo Insano da Abyssinia&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/font&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85078321?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85078321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85078321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#85078321' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-85026839</id><published>2002-11-24T16:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-24T16:07:37.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Ask&lt;b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shyness is nice, but&lt;br /&gt;Shyness can stop you&lt;br /&gt;From doing all the things in life&lt;br /&gt;That you´d like to&lt;br /&gt;So, if there´s something that you´d&lt;br /&gt;like to try&lt;br /&gt;If there´s something that you´d&lt;br /&gt;like to try&lt;br /&gt;Ask me - I wont say "no" - How Could I?&lt;br /&gt;Coyness is nice, but&lt;br /&gt;Coyness can stop you&lt;br /&gt;from saying all the things in&lt;br /&gt;life that you want to&lt;br /&gt;So, if there´s something that you´d&lt;br /&gt;like to try&lt;br /&gt;If there´s something that you´d&lt;br /&gt;like to try&lt;br /&gt;Ask me - I wont say "no" - How Could I?&lt;br /&gt;Spending warm, Summer days indoors&lt;br /&gt;Writing frightening verse&lt;br /&gt;To a buck-toothed girl in Luxembourg&lt;br /&gt;Ask me, Ask me, Ask me&lt;br /&gt;Ask me, Ask me, Ask me&lt;br /&gt;Because if it´s not Love&lt;br /&gt;Then it´s the Bomb&lt;br /&gt;That will bring us together&lt;br /&gt;Nature is a language-can´t you read?&lt;br /&gt;Nature is a language-can´t you read?&lt;br /&gt;Ask me, Ask me, Ask me&lt;br /&gt;Ask me, Ask me, Ask me&lt;br /&gt;Because if it´s not love&lt;br /&gt;Then it´s the Bomb&lt;br /&gt;That will bring us together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-85026839?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85026839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/85026839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#85026839' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-84825525</id><published>2002-11-20T10:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-24T16:03:40.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;Esta tarde fui contra minha postura puramente romantica e finalmente tomei uma atitude . Abri meu coração. E me retirei do ambiente completamente zonza. Tão nervosa que saí quase a correr como uma criança quando faz uma travessura. A situação estava insustentável , minha alma estava a transbordar, precisava de um alívio . Seja a resposta positiva ou não , pelo menos estou com a consciencia tranquila porque fiz o que tinha de fazer. É uma atitude de respeito para comigo. Tenho de aprender a me respeitar , respeitar meus sentimentos, porque eu também tenho necessidades como qualquer outra pessoa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**** &lt;br /&gt;Comprei esta semana um livro que a muito tempo eu procurava - "olhinhos de gato" a biografia da Cecília Meireles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-84825525?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/84825525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/84825525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#84825525' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-84825520</id><published>2002-11-20T10:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-20T10:19:47.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Agora dei de  escrever cartas anonimas. Cartas que nao obtiveram  resposta. Cartas que ficaram inertes no espaço virtual , cartas sem sentido. E sei que cartas precisam de resposta . As minhas precisam . Como dói o silencio. Como minha consideração é inocente , e como sua  postura é tão cruel.&lt;br /&gt;Mas não mais me prestarei a movimentar esses dedos para escrever sequer uma sílaba . Talvez certas pessoas  nao sejam capazes de..., descobri que certas pessoas não são sensíveis a palavras . Principalmente palavras que falam de sentimentos , independentemente de serem correspondidos ou não.&lt;br /&gt;O que posso fazer é continuar a vida , como sempre fiz e tentar desdenhar aquilo que quis comprar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-84825520?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/84825520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/84825520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#84825520' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-84679937</id><published>2002-11-17T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-17T16:10:52.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essa vida não presta !&lt;br /&gt;Sou apenas um rosto na multidão, eu sei. Quantos sofrem , quantos sonham , quantos são apenas um rosto na multidão. &lt;br /&gt;Eu gosto de blues , eu gosto de poesia  e estou com o coração partido . E dai? &lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho uma mãe maravilhosa e mesmo assim me sinto orfã. Por que?&lt;br /&gt;Insisto em usar camisetas com tenis de cadarço colorido , mesmo sabendo que isto nao é nada atrativo . Mas eu não me rendo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;à essa baixaria de vestuário que pode ser notada em qualquer lugar ultimamente.&lt;br /&gt;Sei que nenhum homem presta e no entanto ainda tento  me enganar pensando que eles não preferem apenas as loiras e burras loiras e burras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje acho que neste mundo nao há espa;o para mim, mesmo sabendo que São Paulo é uma cidade bem grande.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje sei como o vocalista do Verve se sentia quando escreveu "bitter sweet symphony" , aquela impaciencia de quando voce anda na rua e nao tem paciencia com a lentidao dos pedestres e sente vontade de sair empurrando a todos eles?" Saiam da frente , eu tenho pressa , suas lesmas!! ". &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-84679937?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/84679937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/84679937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#84679937' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-84534221</id><published>2002-11-14T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-14T09:39:27.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face=~"comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;monday small talk &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" you have to think you are the fairy , and... you will make everything all right.&lt;br /&gt; Think ....if she didn`t exist,  Cinderela couldn`t go to the ball..." &lt;br /&gt;(...)&lt;br /&gt;" That`s very beautiful , I`ll try to think of it every time I feel down."&lt;br /&gt;" believe me I know I`m right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it can help when it comes to work, but even the fairy needs her prince. Nobody took her to the ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************************&lt;br /&gt;I`ve spent long days without my computer. Fortunatelly all the problems were repaired. I have my friend back , but lost my ICQ . So if someone want to contact me, have to send me an e-mail because I haven`t had much time to install it again. Extra -classes are making me very lazy.&lt;br /&gt;**************************&lt;br /&gt;rose, nao tenho mais icq , meu computador deu problema .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-84534221?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/84534221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/84534221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#84534221' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-83887017</id><published>2002-11-01T11:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-11-01T11:49:29.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;Altough "Fernando" is my favorite Carlos Drummond is awesome also. The Portuguese and the Brazilian. Once i heard someone saying: " do you wanna be an artist ? ok, I just hope life gives you   a lot of heartaches....; and people, don´t misunderstand me, I know what i´m saying " &lt;br /&gt;I saw a picture of an artist hanging on a wall of the university. So, you feel the pain and all you get is a picture of you on a wall ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-83887017?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83887017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83887017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#83887017' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-83776624</id><published>2002-10-30T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2002-10-30T08:43:27.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>nothing to say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-83776624?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83776624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83776624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#83776624' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-83560287</id><published>2002-10-26T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-26T10:37:16.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That´s all ok . I forgot everything, I swear. I don´t care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-83560287?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83560287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83560287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#83560287' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-83466830</id><published>2002-10-24T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-24T09:44:34.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I Promess... It all will change, today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-83466830?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83466830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83466830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#83466830' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-83187488</id><published>2002-10-18T14:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-18T14:28:24.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I don´t feel like listening to my favorite songs. I have  a new job . I should fix my attention on it.&lt;br /&gt;I´ve solved one of my problems , but now it makes no diference: there is another one so much bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;dont color="red"&gt;&lt;size="2"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.jonnylang.hpg.com.br/coracao.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is this thing called? Love?&lt;br /&gt;What? Is this thing called love?&lt;br /&gt;What is this thing called love?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-83187488?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83187488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83187488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#83187488' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-83186475</id><published>2002-10-18T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-18T14:01:32.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Em qualquer instante que eu fico sem te ver&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aumenta a saudade que eu sinto de você&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então eu corro demais&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sofro demais&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu corro demais só pra te ver...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-83186475?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83186475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83186475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#83186475' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-83117852</id><published>2002-10-17T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-17T07:24:53.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;My Dad is in the room now and I don´t want him to understand what I´m writing , so, that´s why I´m writing in english , that´s why I always do.  &lt;br /&gt;" Don´t cry , sweet, are you regreted about quiting your job? " &lt;br /&gt;" No..."&lt;br /&gt;If he knew why I was crying....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-83117852?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83117852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/83117852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#83117852' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-82983162</id><published>2002-10-14T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-17T07:15:19.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;src img="www.tramamusical.hpg.com.br/an046.gif"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A pessoa que agora estiver a ler este texto agora nunca poderá siquer imaginar a dor que agora adentra meu peito. Agora eu sinto o que tanto na vida eu perdi  , o tanto que eu abdiquei ,  como fui triste.  Eu caminhei sozinha de volta para casa. Eu vim chorando. Eu estou chorando. Meu coração agora se estraçalha e seus pedaços se perdem no espaço sideral e eu não tenho esperança. Eu voltei desconsolada recitando textos de Fernando Pessoa, eu vim  olhando para o chão . Eu vim sem mais planos eu vim e não sinto mais o futuro . Suspeito que a imensidão de meu suspiro tenha até o poder de tirar-me a vida. Por alguns momentos os meus sonhos me fizeram feliz, mas esses sonhos se foram e não resta nada na minha vida vazia.&lt;br /&gt;Me deste apenas sorrisos. Não queria os teus sorrisos , queria a tua dor , queria que segurasses a minha mão , mas você não o fez . Não pude exprimir com palavras , mas meus olhos foram mais do que claros, não viste no reflexo deles a imagem do amor? &lt;br /&gt;Agora minha alma busca justificativas: "Teus olhos devem ter sido apenas amigáveis", "nunca sentiste a mesma coisa", "minha presença se distanciou da tua e logo serei um borrão , uma conhecida ", " o que eu pensava que era para achar que alguém como você me amaria? "," não existem anéis de latão com pedras verdadeiras."&lt;br /&gt;E agora o ciclo recomeça e eu estarei a caminhar por uma rua da cidade ; sozinha, olhando para o chão... porque aquilo que eu achava que poderia ter era só uma miragem.&lt;br /&gt;Meus sentimentos puros me poluiram. E eu não correspondo  à minha época. Eu aguardo um dia de felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cantiga sua partindo-se &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Partem tão tristes &lt;br /&gt;meus olhos por vós , meu bem,&lt;br /&gt;que nunca tão tristes vistes &lt;br /&gt;outros nehuns por ninguém&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tão tristes , tão saudosos&lt;br /&gt;tão doentes da partida&lt;br /&gt;tão cansados , tão chorosos&lt;br /&gt;da morte mais desejosos&lt;br /&gt;cem mil vezes que a vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Partem tão tristes os tristes &lt;br /&gt;tão fora d´esperar bem,&lt;br /&gt;que nunca tão tristes vistes&lt;br /&gt;outros nenhuns por ninguém. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(João Roiz Castelo Branco) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para quem não sabe esta é uma cantiga de amor, aquelas que os trovadores dos tempos medievais cantavam para as suas donzelas que  sempre eram intocáveis , tão impossíveis quanto tocar uma estrela no céu. Uma contemplação platônica. E eu sempre fui uma trovadora. Não só cantando o amor que nunca me foi correspondido , mas a vida , porque às vezes , não vejo sentido na vida. Eu acho tudo tão injusto e às vezes acho que nada vale a pena. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;"Porque a alma humana é um abismo..."(Fernando Pessoa)&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Meu deus, como meu sentimento parece infinito e quanto hei de sofrer . Saber que existe amanhã, que o sol nasce novamente , que eu tenho uma longa noite peça frente , saber que amanhã não haverão mais planos e que tudo estará como sempre foi. Eu caminho pela casa e eu.... eu não sei o que fazer . Me chamem de covarde , me chamem do que quiserem . É o meu sentimento.  E eu sou triste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-82983162?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82983162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82983162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#82983162' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-82894745</id><published>2002-10-12T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-12T13:21:40.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;Love is Essential&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is essential.&lt;br /&gt;Sex, mere accident.&lt;br /&gt;Can be equal&lt;br /&gt;Or different.&lt;br /&gt;A man's not an animal:&lt;br /&gt;Is a flesh intelligent,&lt;br /&gt;Although sometimes ill.&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;This&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;They say I pretend or lie&lt;br /&gt;All I write. No such thing.&lt;br /&gt;It simply is that I&lt;br /&gt;Feel by imagining.&lt;br /&gt;I don't use the heart-string.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that I dream or lose,&lt;br /&gt;That falls short or dies on me,&lt;br /&gt;Is like a terrace which looks&lt;br /&gt;On another thing beyond.&lt;br /&gt;It's that thing leads me on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I write in the middle&lt;br /&gt;Of things not next one's feet,&lt;br /&gt;Free from my own muddle,&lt;br /&gt;Concerned for what is not.&lt;br /&gt;Feel? Let the reader feel!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;I Am Tired&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tired, that is clear,&lt;br /&gt;Because, at certain stage, people have to be tired.&lt;br /&gt;Of what I am tired, I don't know:&lt;br /&gt;It would not serve me at all to know&lt;br /&gt;Since the tiredness stays just the same.&lt;br /&gt;The wound hurts as it hurts&lt;br /&gt;And not in function of the cause that produced it.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am tired,&lt;br /&gt;And ever so slightly smiling&lt;br /&gt;At the tiredness being only this -&lt;br /&gt;In the body a wish for sleep,&lt;br /&gt;In the soul a desire for not thinking&lt;br /&gt;And, to crown all, a luminous transparency&lt;br /&gt;Of the retrospective understanding ...&lt;br /&gt;And the one luxury of not now having hopes?&lt;br /&gt;I am intelligent: that's all.&lt;br /&gt;I have seen much and understood much of what I&lt;br /&gt;	have seen.&lt;br /&gt;And there is a certain pleasure even in tiredness&lt;br /&gt;	this brings us,&lt;br /&gt;That in the end the head does still serve for&lt;br /&gt;	something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outros terão &lt;br /&gt;Um lar, quem saiba, amor, paz, um amigo. &lt;br /&gt;A inteira, negra e fria solidão &lt;br /&gt;Está comigo. &lt;br /&gt;A outros talvez &lt;br /&gt;Há alguma coisa quente, igual, afim &lt;br /&gt;No mundo real. Não chega nunca a vez &lt;br /&gt;Para mim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Que importa?" &lt;br /&gt;Digo, mas só Deus sabe que o não creio. &lt;br /&gt;Nem um casual mendigo à minha porta &lt;br /&gt;Sentar-se veio. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Quem tem de ser?" &lt;br /&gt;Não sofre menos quem o reconhece. &lt;br /&gt;Sofre quem finge desprezar sofrer &lt;br /&gt;Pois não esquece. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isto até quando? &lt;br /&gt;Só tenho por consolação &lt;br /&gt;Que os olhos se me vão acostumando &lt;br /&gt;À escuridão. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assim como falham as palavras quando querem exprimir&lt;br /&gt;qualquer pensamento, assim falham os pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;quando querem exprimir qualquer realidade. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Introdução &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the escaped one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the escaped one,&lt;br /&gt;After I was born&lt;br /&gt;They locked me up inside me&lt;br /&gt;But I left.&lt;br /&gt;My soul seeks me,&lt;br /&gt;Through hills and valley,&lt;br /&gt;I hope my soul&lt;br /&gt;Never finds me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meantime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Far away, far away,&lt;br /&gt;	Far away from here...&lt;br /&gt;There is no worry after joy&lt;br /&gt;	Or away from fear&lt;br /&gt;Far away from here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her lips were not very red,&lt;br /&gt;	Not her hair quite gold.&lt;br /&gt;Her hands played with rings.&lt;br /&gt;	She did not let me hold&lt;br /&gt;Her hands playing with gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is something past,&lt;br /&gt;	Far away from pain.&lt;br /&gt;Joy can touch her not, nor hope&lt;br /&gt;	Enter her domain,&lt;br /&gt;	Neither love in vain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps at some day beyond&lt;br /&gt;	Shadows and light&lt;br /&gt;She will think of me and make&lt;br /&gt;	All me a delight&lt;br /&gt;	All away from sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON AN ANKLE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     A SONNET BEARING THE IMPRIMATUR&lt;br /&gt;         OF THE INQUISITOR-GENERAL&lt;br /&gt;AND OTHER PEOPLE OF DISTINCTION AND DECENCY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a revelation not from high,&lt;br /&gt;But from below, when thy skirt awhile lifted&lt;br /&gt;Betrayed such promise that I am not gifted&lt;br /&gt;With words that may taht view well signify.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even if my verse that thing would try,&lt;br /&gt;Hard were it, if that word came to be sifted,&lt;br /&gt;Ti find a word that rude would not have shifted&lt;br /&gt;There from the cold hand of Morality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gaze is nought; mere sight no mind hath wrecked.&lt;br /&gt;But oh! sweet lady, beyond what is seen&lt;br /&gt;What things may guess or hint at Disrespect?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sacred is not the beauty of a queen...&lt;br /&gt;I from thine ankle did as much suspect&lt;br /&gt;As you from this suspect what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	?(1907)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            A UM TORNOZELO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; SONETO COM AS LICENÇAS NECESSÁRIAS&lt;br /&gt; DO INQUISIDOR-MOR E DE OUTRA GENTE&lt;br /&gt;      DE ALGO E DE DECÊNCIA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revelação eu tive, e não do Alto,&lt;br /&gt;Mas sim de baixo, quando o teu vestido&lt;br /&gt;Traiu uma tal promessa, soerguido,&lt;br /&gt;Que dons não tenho pra significá-la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tentasem versos meus matéria tal,&lt;br /&gt;Difícil era, o esforço conseguido,&lt;br /&gt;Achar um termo que não fora tido&lt;br /&gt;Por longe de mão fria da Moral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que olhar é nada; em ver não se treslê.&lt;br /&gt;Mas, bela dama, além do que se vê&lt;br /&gt;Que coisas adivinha um atrevido?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De uma rainha não é sacro o belo...&lt;br /&gt;Eu tanto suspeitei do tornozelo&lt;br /&gt;Quão tu suspeitarás o que eu não digo.              &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 	Tradução de Jorge de Sena&lt;br /&gt;Alentejo Seen From The Train&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing with nothing around it&lt;br /&gt;And a few trees in between&lt;br /&gt;None of wich very clearly green,&lt;br /&gt;Where no river or flower pays a visit.&lt;br /&gt;If there be a hell, I've found it,&lt;br /&gt;For if ain't here, where the Devil it is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Know, I Alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I alone&lt;br /&gt;How much it hurts, this heart&lt;br /&gt;With no faith nor law&lt;br /&gt;Nor melody nor thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only I, only I&lt;br /&gt;And none of this can I say&lt;br /&gt;Because feeling is like the sky -&lt;br /&gt;Seen, nothing in it to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(fernando Pessoa in Fernando Pessoa)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Eyes Go Sad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes go sad. You're not&lt;br /&gt;Listening to what I say.&lt;br /&gt;They doze, dream, fade out.&lt;br /&gt;Not listening. I talk away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell what I've told, out of listless&lt;br /&gt;Sadness, so often before ...&lt;br /&gt;I think you never listened,&lt;br /&gt;So youraway you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden, an absent&lt;br /&gt;Stare, you look at me, still&lt;br /&gt;Immeasurably distant,&lt;br /&gt;You begin a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go on talking. You&lt;br /&gt;Go on listening - your own&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts you listen to,&lt;br /&gt;The smile as good as gone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until, through the loafing&lt;br /&gt;Afternoon's waste of while,&lt;br /&gt;The silence self-unleafing&lt;br /&gt;Of your useless smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-82894745?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82894745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82894745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#82894745' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-82894082</id><published>2002-10-12T12:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-12T12:59:41.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt; &lt;b&gt;HOPE . That´s all I need now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-82894082?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82894082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82894082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#82894082' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-82894081</id><published>2002-10-12T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-12T12:59:40.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt; &lt;b&gt;HOPE . That´s all I need now. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-82894081?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82894081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82894081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#82894081' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-82753535</id><published>2002-10-09T12:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-09T12:40:20.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tomorrow I´ll quit my job, this is sad because I won´t see my friends so frequently , but life keeps going on...&lt;br /&gt;new job , new life. I really want this to go right.&lt;br /&gt; Bye bye my good lovin´.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;************&lt;br /&gt;I keep on falling , in and out of love with you&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never loved someone &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the way that I loved you.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never felt this way&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you gimme so much pleasure &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and cause me so much pain?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-82753535?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82753535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82753535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#82753535' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-82752814</id><published>2002-10-09T12:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-09T12:21:56.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="silver'&gt;&lt;b&gt;"if you have been rejected many times in your life, then one more&lt;br /&gt;rejection&lt;br /&gt;then one more rejection isn't going to make much difference. if you're&lt;br /&gt;rejected, don't automatically assume it's your fault. the other person&lt;br /&gt;may&lt;br /&gt;have several reasons for not doing what you're asking her to do: one of&lt;br /&gt;it&lt;br /&gt;may have anything to do with you. perhaps the person is busy or not&lt;br /&gt;feeling&lt;br /&gt;well or genuinelly interested in spending time with you. rejections are&lt;br /&gt;part of everyday life. don't let bother you. keep reaching out to&lt;br /&gt;others.&lt;br /&gt;keep reaching out to others. when you begin to receive positive&lt;br /&gt;responses,&lt;br /&gt;then you are on the right track. it's all a matter of numbers. count on&lt;br /&gt;positive responses and forget about the rejections."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-82752814?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82752814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82752814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#82752814' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-82397306</id><published>2002-10-01T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-10-01T20:03:30.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu deus , eu não contava com isso , pelo menos agora.... no momento em que eu estava mais feliz, no ar , apaixonada cai uma bomba dessas na minha cabeça... preciso agir rápido e falar do meu sentimento para ele antes que eu seja despedida....É engraçado , isso é o que eu mais queria e agora estou quase chorando , tudo bem que não é o pelo emprego, mas... nem vou conseguir dormir... Se eu sair de lá e não me acertar com o A... eu vou ficar tão triste e deprimida que já estou até vendo no que vai dar. Preferia que ele viesse falar comigo, como eu queria. Ah, o que eu faço...!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-82397306?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82397306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82397306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#82397306' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-82288451</id><published>2002-09-29T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-29T18:04:01.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt; E minha "alma se cobria de um luxo radioso de sensações.."., não quero que esta sensação acabe tão cedo...Ah , acho até que a face me ilumina , meu corpo estremece se o dele se põe ao meu lado e os meus olhos disfarçadamente procuram os dele procurando pelos meus... Os meus sorrisos singelos e a minha falsa naturalidade ... Quando ele chama minha atenção para qualquer pergunta banal o momento dura uma infinidade e as palavras ecoam na durante o resto das minhas horas, e hora da partida é triste, ponho-me a pensar quais serão os seus caminhos e o que pensa .&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font color="orange"&gt;&lt;b&gt; I listened to Nelly Furtado at work and believe me - I liked...(some songs)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nas horas do dia, nas horas do dia/ Espero a noite, espero a noite/ Nas horas do dia, nas horas do dia/ Espero a noite, espero a noite/ Vejo as ondas a passar pelo mar/ Vejo as ondas passar pelo mar/ la la la la la la/ Nas horas do dia, nas horas do dia/ Espero a noite, espero a noite/ Nas horas do dia, nas horas do dia/ Espero a noite, espero a noite/ Vejo estrelas gritar seu nome pelo ar/ Vejo estrelas gritar seu nome pelo ar/ la la la la la la/ Nas horas do dia, nas horas do dia/ Feixo meus olhos, feixo meus olhos/ Vou pelos campos a perguntar onde estás/ Vou pelos campos a perguntar onde estas/ Onde estás/ Onde estás/ Onde estás/ Onde estás &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On despite of her silly and annoying song "bird" or whatever it is, Nelly Furtado really has some nice stuff. I´m not really a fan of POP but I like the songs that she sings in portuguese. I like the fate. I heard that there are some Fate Pubs in Portugal and the person that interrupts the singer during his performance is invited to leave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-82288451?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82288451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82288451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#82288451' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-82255513</id><published>2002-09-28T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-28T19:38:10.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Suspiros&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt;Hoje minha noite será um longo e profundo suspiro. É estranho sentir meu coração assim bater. Serão tudo isso brincadeiras ou verdades? Foram sinceros teus olhos azuis ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;Sighing&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt;Today my night will be a long and deep sigh . It´s strange feeling my heart jumping . Were these just jokes  or truths? Were sincere your blue eyes ?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-82255513?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82255513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82255513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#82255513' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-82219264</id><published>2002-09-27T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-27T19:33:26.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="blue"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nome do poema teu nome&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu coração é assim&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tem alma de criança&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;com tudo se alegra&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se teu olhar me alcança&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as marés são tão glaucas e profundas&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seus olhos são tão um pedaço de mar&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quem admira o mar e não o adentra&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não corre o risco de naufragar&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que será pior?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afogar-se nessa imensidão&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ou estar a ficar na areia&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;caminhando à beira , com sofreguidão?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando tendo um motivo para me inspirar. Meus dias tem sido recheados de tantos opostos. Tendo estado tão triste , mas às vezes tão..., não sei se feliz. Ah , como o dia é tão longo e como há tanto vazio em tudo. Os meus caminhos, desde a ida ao elevador , na ida ou na volta de ônibus , as imagens da janela e até meus livros às vezes tudo é tão sem sentido, tudo me assusta tanto. &lt;br /&gt;Ninguém se importa . Ninguém parece me ver. Não há um asó alma que aí esteja para perguntar -me :" o que você sente? " ou "venha comigo...".&lt;br /&gt;Além disso agora , tenho de ficar a mercê dessa pessoa. Me derretendo com uma palavra , uma citação com relação a mim que saia daquela boca. Que patético . Que instável . Às vezes mal me ouve , às vezes demonstra tanta consideração. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-82219264?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82219264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/82219264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#82219264' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-81964823</id><published>2002-09-22T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-24T19:08:07.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font color="darkviolet"&gt;Appeal &lt;/font&gt;( Charlotte Bronte)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh , I am very weary,&lt;br /&gt;tough tears no longer flow, &lt;br /&gt;my eyes are tired of weeping,&lt;br /&gt;my heart is sick of woe,&lt;br /&gt;my life is very lonely&lt;br /&gt;my days pass heavily&lt;br /&gt;I´m weary of repining &lt;br /&gt;wilt thou not come to me?&lt;br /&gt;oh , didnst thou know my longins&lt;br /&gt;for thee, from day to day ,&lt;br /&gt;my hopes , so often blighted&lt;br /&gt;thou wouldst not this delay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**** &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A súplica de Charlotte!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje estava eu continuando a ler o " Primo Basílio " e finalmente encontrei aquele trecho do livro que está na música da Marisa Monte . Trecho este que é maravilhosamente interpretado pelo Arnaldo Antunes . Foi incrível . Parte realmente tocante se lido fora do contexto; pois, a personagem não é aquele tipo que me agrade. Me lembra Gwenhyfar nas Brumas de Avalon. Figurinha insuportável. Estou louca para que ela se dê mal no fim . Mas o que é incrível é a sensibilidade de Eça. Conseguir exprimir tão delicadamente e tão verdadeiramente o sentimento feminino da sensação  e do luxo de ser querida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-81964823?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81964823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81964823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81964823' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-81964772</id><published>2002-09-22T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-22T15:05:56.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms "&gt;&lt;font color="darkviolet&gt;&lt;b&gt;Appeal ( Charlotte Bronte)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh , I am very weary,&lt;br /&gt;tough tears no longer flow, &lt;br /&gt;my eyes are tired of weeping,&lt;br /&gt;my heart is sick of woe,&lt;br /&gt;my life is very lonely&lt;br /&gt;my days pass heavily&lt;br /&gt;I´m weary of repining &lt;br /&gt;wilt thou not come to me?&lt;br /&gt;oh , didnst thou know my longins&lt;br /&gt;for thee, from day to day ,&lt;br /&gt;my hopes , so often blighted&lt;br /&gt;thou wouldst not this delay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**** &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A súplica de Charlotte!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje estava eu continuando a ler o " Primo Basílio " e finalmente encontrei aquele trecho do livro que está na música da Marisa Monte . Trecho este que é maravilhosamente interpretado pelo Arnaldo Antunes . Foi incrível . Parte realmente tocante se lido fora do contexto; pois, a personagem não é aquele tipo que me agrade. Me lembra Gwenhyfar nas Brumas de Avalon. Figurinha insuportável. Estou louca para que ela se dê mal no fim . Mas o que é incrível é a sensibilidade de Eça. Conseguir exprimir tão delicadamente e tão verdadeiramente o sentimento feminino da sensação  e do luxo de ser querida.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-81964772?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81964772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81964772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81964772' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-81797450</id><published>2002-09-18T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-19T17:17:18.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;size="5"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez uma Biografia&lt;/size&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acesse :&lt;a href="http://talvezumabiografia.blogspot.com"&gt;talvezumabiografia.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Isso é apenas um projeto. Cenas extraídas da cabeça de uma garota que entrando em sua fase de fascinação pelas letras  conheceu Álvares de Azevedo e  até hoje é envolvida em atmosfera tão misteriosa . Aqui estão apenas algumas idéias para algo em que realmente quero perpetuar no papel , melhor dizendo para alguma "eternidade",  já que o papel atualmente é dispensável para publicação (a não ser para os rascunhos). Tal condição considero um tanto anti-romântica pois;  na minha opinião ,  canetas tinteiro e pergaminhos(ou sei lá como se chamavam ) eram muito mais interessantes e atraentes aos olhos. &lt;br /&gt;Felizmente consegui dar um início a uma obra que suponho não me esgotar a inspiração tão rapidamente como aconteceu em &lt;br /&gt;" Zulema ".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Álvares de Azevedo é para mim o que Byron significava para ele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-81797450?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81797450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81797450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81797450' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-81750824</id><published>2002-09-17T18:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-17T18:51:00.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Estou escrevendo uma história sobre o Álvares de Azevedo. Vou digitar amanhã , já que vai ser minha folga. Consegui fazer parte dela durante o horário da aula de Literatura Portuguesa III já que a professora não foi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-81750824?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81750824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81750824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81750824' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-81648217</id><published>2002-09-15T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-15T17:42:13.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;Coitado do Álvaro de Campos , com quem niguém se importa,&lt;br /&gt;Coitado dele que tem tanta pena de si mesmo,&lt;br /&gt;E, sim, coitado dele&lt;br /&gt;Mais coitado dele que de muitos que são vadios e vadiam&lt;br /&gt;Que são pedintes e pedem, &lt;br /&gt;Porque a  alma humana é um abismo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Álvaro de Campos in Fernando Pessoa)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-81648217?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81648217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81648217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81648217' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-81614839</id><published>2002-09-14T19:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-14T19:21:24.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can a smile , how can a simple word ...&lt;br /&gt;I was on the cloud nine today. Passion knocked on my door.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-81614839?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81614839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81614839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81614839' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-81481801</id><published>2002-09-11T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-11T17:33:25.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt; I was missing this blog, my blog. My dear friend. Hard days have been these last ones... &lt;br /&gt;This chaotic city is driving me crazy. My life is chaotic . When will all this end? When will I be happy ? Nobody knows that. Nobody knows that, I pretend this smile , everybody thinks everything is all right. Yeah I´m funny , but nobody is inside of me to recognize a real bluesgirl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-81481801?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81481801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81481801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81481801' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-81153041</id><published>2002-09-04T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-04T12:48:06.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt; I hate when I have to do these stupid speeches. Ok, here I am . Today is my day off (the only one during the week) and I have to write about something. I never know what talk about. I hate my english practice classmates, I think the teacher is silly and I don´t fell so excited about speaking english to brazilians anymore. Maybe I´ll talk about latin or greek mithology, but it´s hard to translate the name of the gods... I don´t know what to do....i have 6 hours to decide.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-81153041?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81153041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81153041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81153041' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-81009429</id><published>2002-09-01T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-09-01T17:33:25.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="blue"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to face the idea that my life is not a movie.&lt;br /&gt;My sky is broken in thousand pieces with U2 as soundtrack.I´ve found out my pride is as big as my loneliness. Some people are not lonely but everybody is alone , everybody.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-81009429?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81009429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/81009429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81009429' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-80804015</id><published>2002-08-27T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-27T19:12:18.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Poema de canção sobre  a esperança&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me lírios, lírios&lt;br /&gt;E rosas também&lt;br /&gt;Mas se não tens lírios,&lt;br /&gt;Nem rosas a dar-me&lt;br /&gt;Tem a vontade ao menos&lt;br /&gt;de dar-me os lírios&lt;br /&gt;E as rosas também,&lt;br /&gt;E terei os lírios &lt;br /&gt;E as melhores rosas&lt;br /&gt;sem receber nada, &lt;br /&gt;A não ser a prenda &lt;br /&gt;Da tua vontade &lt;br /&gt;De me dares lírios e rosas também&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Fernando Pessoa in Alberto Caiero - "Poesia")&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-80804015?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80804015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80804015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80804015' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-80706564</id><published>2002-08-25T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T17:43:21.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não quer falar comigo , não fale&lt;br /&gt;Não quer me escutar, não me escute&lt;br /&gt;Não quer me querer, não queira.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-80706564?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80706564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80706564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80706564' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-80456361</id><published>2002-08-19T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-19T19:30:08.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;E entre os meus pensamentos eu me disperso ,  e os que estão a minha volta se assustam e indagam meu silêncio , minha indiferença. Ah! Se eles soubessem o que meus pensamentos inunda...Ah ! Se eles soubessem que por dentro a minha voz ecoa por montes e atravessa os sete céus ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-80456361?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80456361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80456361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80456361' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-80404549</id><published>2002-08-18T16:34:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-18T16:37:58.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>**&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-80404549?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80404549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80404549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80404549' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-80404546</id><published>2002-08-18T16:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-18T16:37:04.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>**&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-80404546?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80404546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80404546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80404546' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-80404552</id><published>2002-08-18T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-18T16:35:24.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkpink"&gt;Não te fies do tempo nem da eternidade&lt;br /&gt;que as nuvens me puxam pelos vestidos&lt;br /&gt;que os ventos arrastam &lt;br /&gt;contra o meu desejo &lt;br /&gt;Apressa-te amor, que&lt;br /&gt;amanhã eu morro&lt;br /&gt;que amanhã &lt;br /&gt;eu morro e não te vejo&lt;br /&gt;Não demores tão longe &lt;br /&gt;em lugar tão secreto&lt;br /&gt;nácar de silêncio&lt;br /&gt;que o mar comprime o lábio&lt;br /&gt;limite do instante absoluto&lt;br /&gt;Apressa-te amor, que amanhã eu morro&lt;br /&gt;que amanhã eu morro e não te escuto&lt;br /&gt;Aparece-me agora, &lt;br /&gt;que ainda reconheço &lt;br /&gt;e em redor dos meus  muros&lt;br /&gt;o vento inimigo&lt;br /&gt;Apressa-te amor, que amanhã eu morro ,&lt;br /&gt;que amanhã eu morro e não te escuto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(cecília meireles)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Hurry up my love, because tomorrow I die and don´t see you&lt;br /&gt;Don´t keep back  , so far, in such a secret place&lt;br /&gt;hurry up my love , because tomorrow I die and don´t hear you ..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was taken by a sullen nostalgy. My teeny platonic friendship memory made eyes smile and made me  search for a forgotten and lost poem , here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que escorreu pelas mãos &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O meu olhar te procurava mas não te olhava&lt;br /&gt;Nos meus sonhos você sorria&lt;br /&gt;E acordada eu chorava &lt;br /&gt;Voz disparava o coração ,&lt;br /&gt;mundo real emergia a razão&lt;br /&gt;A tua pele nunca  a minha tocou&lt;br /&gt;meu silêncio se manteve &lt;br /&gt;e o sonho evaporou&lt;br /&gt;Tive medo e amei teus olhos indiferentes&lt;br /&gt;No meu espaço vazio da tua presença &lt;br /&gt;se aguniavam minhas mãos carentes&lt;br /&gt;Teus gestos me acompanhavam &lt;br /&gt;enquanto eu caminhava de volta para casa &lt;br /&gt;Pensamentos se dispersavam &lt;br /&gt;E o tempo te levou, &lt;br /&gt;mas minha alma não descansou.&lt;br /&gt;O teu pensamento deve ter se perdido do meu&lt;br /&gt;Pena nem sabes que este verso é teu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-80404552?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80404552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80404552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80404552' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-80376623</id><published>2002-08-17T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-17T20:09:10.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkblue"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get so happy when I met italian people by chance, they remind me my great-grandmother, I remember she had a nice accent, what a pity she couldn´t teach me italian a little more, I was little when she died.Today I help a italian costumer and as he wasn´t able to speak portuguese I tried to speak italian the best I could , i understood  he wanted a portuguese grammar book for kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"portuguese para bambini..., facile , per favore !!"&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Nice people they are! &lt;i&gt;Ma io non parlo niente!!!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Well I never pray,&lt;br /&gt;But tonight I'm on my knees, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;I need to hear some sounds that recognise the pain in me, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;I let the melody shine, let it cleanze my mind , I feel free now.&lt;br /&gt;But the airwaves are clean and there's nobody singing to me now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(the verve)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;I should love who loves me. But I don´t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B. went to Canada last mounth. What made me surprise is that I ´ve never tought that Canada would be so beautiful, when she shows me the pics , uau!! The parks are so amazing, so colorfull , in Brazil there´s no autumn so here I can´t have the pleasure of admiring those yellow and orange leaves  ... Maybe Canada can be another possibility after Spain of course ( Maybe deep in my heart I´m not hopefull , but I can dream...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-80376623?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80376623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80376623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80376623' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-80255957</id><published>2002-08-14T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-14T19:07:05.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkviolet"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falai! Que estou distante e distraída&lt;br /&gt;com meu tédio sem voz&lt;br /&gt;Falai! Meu mundo é feito de outra vida.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez nós não sejamos nós."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(cecília meireles, "interpretação")&lt;br /&gt;"Say ! that I´m distant and absent minded&lt;br /&gt;with my voiceless boredom&lt;br /&gt; Say! My world is made of other life.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps we are not we."&lt;br /&gt;*******&lt;br /&gt;O Doce amargo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me esqueça se não pode suportar.&lt;br /&gt;Me esqueça , não seja agradável&lt;br /&gt;Me esqueça, se a noite não foi em claro&lt;br /&gt;e não me perturbe se ela foi obscura&lt;br /&gt;porque eu ainda sonho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-80255957?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80255957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80255957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80255957' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-80212171</id><published>2002-08-13T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-13T19:20:30.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font color="0080ff"&gt;Minha felicidade se baseia no piscar de uma luz azul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-80212171?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80212171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80212171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80212171' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-80052149</id><published>2002-08-09T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-09T19:49:12.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="0080ff"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"People living their lives for you on tv they say they are better than you and you agree I am sick but I am pretty I know it sounds funny but I just can´t stand the pain There must be someone we can trust out here among us I am selflish fool and I have no feelings Help , I need somebody , when the party is over and the music has died you ´ll dance trough the music somewhere on the darker side I care but I am restless but I still haven´t found what I am looking days like this  I don´t know what to do with myself "&lt;br /&gt;(so many songs so many feelings...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody cares &lt;br /&gt;Nobody is there&lt;br /&gt;Nobody knows&lt;br /&gt;Nobody says&lt;br /&gt;Nobody sees &lt;br /&gt;Nobody is  sorry&lt;br /&gt;Nobody is concerned &lt;br /&gt;Nobody hears when I cry&lt;br /&gt;Nobody enjoys the blues&lt;br /&gt;Nobody can read nobody´s mind &lt;br /&gt;Nobody keep silent &lt;br /&gt;Nobobody has a sincere smile&lt;br /&gt;Nobody read this stupid blog.So, why do I write it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-80052149?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80052149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/80052149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80052149' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79955973</id><published>2002-08-07T15:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-09T19:21:20.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font face="rose"&gt; &lt;b&gt;Girly Things&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.tramamusical.hpg.com.br/me.gif"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doing girly things like : get hair cut , shopping , reading  gossip magazines , can cheer us up at times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79955973?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79955973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79955973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79955973' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79955378</id><published>2002-08-07T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-07T15:31:20.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkviolet"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rose , aí está o que eu te prometi... &lt;br&gt;Beijos..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pintar de preto&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vejo um começo vermelho e o quero pintado de preto&lt;br /&gt;Sem mais cores , as quero transformadas em preto&lt;br /&gt;Vejo as garotas passarem com seus biquinis &lt;br /&gt;tenho que virar minha cabeça até que a escuridão vá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vejo uma fila de carros  e todos eles estão pintados de preto&lt;br /&gt;com  flores e meu amor , ambos não voltam &lt;br /&gt;vejo as pessoas virarem suas cabeças e rapidamente olharem para longe&lt;br /&gt;como o nascimento de um novo bebê , isto apenas acontece todos os dias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meu mar verde não vai mais se transformar num profundo azul&lt;br /&gt;eu não poderia prever que isso aconteceria com você&lt;br /&gt;se eu olhar o bastante para o pôr-do-sol&lt;br /&gt;meu amor sorrirá comigo antes da manhã chegar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vejo um começo e o quero pintado de preto&lt;br /&gt;sem mais cores, as quero transformadas em preto&lt;br /&gt;vejo as garotas...&lt;br /&gt;tenho que virar minha cabeça...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quero ver seu rosto , pintado de preto, preto como a noite&lt;br /&gt;não vou querer ver o sol voando alto no céu&lt;br /&gt;quero vê-lo pintado, pintado, pintado de preto, sim...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79955378?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79955378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79955378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79955378' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79870454</id><published>2002-08-05T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-05T19:19:34.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="0080ff"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Devil angel of mine is gone.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My  naps until 10:00 Am are numbered. Finally I´m back to school. I had to wake up 4 hours earlier than I used to during this school break. But the worse was find out that my favorite professor won´t be my professor anymore. It really made me down. That´s awfull...&lt;br /&gt;I lost my devil angel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;angelical devil (that is not mine) &lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;teenagers , teenagers.... who understand them?&lt;br /&gt;come on kid , I´m too old for you. But anyway, that was sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"... Em qualquer instante que eu fico sem te ver, aumenta a saudade que eu sinto de você&lt;br /&gt;então eu corro demais , eu sofro demais , eu corro demais só pra te ver meu bem&lt;br /&gt;Você ainda me pede para não correr assim&lt;br /&gt;meu bem eu não suporto ter você longe de mim&lt;br /&gt;então eu corro demais , eu sofro demais , eu corro demais só pra te ver..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grande Roberto!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79870454?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79870454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79870454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79870454' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79822702</id><published>2002-08-04T17:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-04T17:31:47.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I look inside myself and see my heart is black&lt;br /&gt;I see my red door and I want it painted black &lt;br /&gt;Maybe then I´ll fade away and not have to face the fact&lt;br /&gt;It´s not easy facing up when your whole world is black... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://tramamusical.hpg.com.br/doll25.gif"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79822702?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79822702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79822702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79822702' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79759212</id><published>2002-08-02T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-02T20:06:58.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkviolet"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me diga nada , me olhe em silêncio e obrigada por pensar em mim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por que não gosto de quem gosta de mim?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gostaria de que Pedro sumisse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love popcorn!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79759212?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79759212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79759212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79759212' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79759180</id><published>2002-08-02T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-02T19:47:06.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkviolet&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me diga nada . Me olhe em silêncio . E obrigada por pensar em mim. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79759180?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79759180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79759180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79759180' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79701407</id><published>2002-08-01T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-01T18:17:40.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;extraído de "mar absoluto e outros poemas" - cecília meireles&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moro no ventre da noite &lt;br /&gt;aou a jamais nascida &lt;br /&gt;E a cada instante aguardo vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As estrelas , mais o negrume , &lt;br /&gt;são minhas faixas tutelares,&lt;br /&gt;e as areias eo sal dos mares .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser tão completa e estar tão longe!&lt;br /&gt;Sem nome  e sem família cresço,&lt;br /&gt;e sem rosto me reconheço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Profunda é a noite onde moro.&lt;br /&gt;Dá no que tanto se procura .&lt;br /&gt;Mas intransitável, e escura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estarei um tempo divino &lt;br /&gt;como árvore em quieta semente&lt;br /&gt;dobrada na noite, e dormente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até que de algum lado venha&lt;br /&gt;a anunciação de meu segredo &lt;br /&gt;desentranhar-me deste enredo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah , causador dos meus olhos,&lt;br /&gt;que paisagem cria ou pensa&lt;br /&gt;para mim, a noite densa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.tramamusical.hpg.com.br/olho4.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por que a droga do meu blog não insere o link para comentários de visitantes , drog@!!!!!alguém me ensine!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79701407?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79701407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79701407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79701407' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79621143</id><published>2002-07-30T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-08-01T18:03:49.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This strange infatuation&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;First , faceless crowd; later, empty street. &lt;br /&gt;Darkness. The Blues  is the only thing that can be heard in the silent night . It´s so cold here , but my heart became frozen since the summertime.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.tramamusical.hpg.com.br/an046.gif"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Esta Estranha Paixão&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Primeiro, multidão sem rosto ; depois, rua vazia.&lt;br /&gt;Escuridão .  O Blues é a única coisa que pode ser ouvida no silêncio da noite. Está tão frio aqui mas meu coração se congelou desde o verão.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79621143?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79621143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79621143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79621143' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79594495</id><published>2002-07-30T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-30T07:11:41.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkviolet"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Altough this song reminds me work (because I use to listen  to that italian CD all the day long ) , I really like this  song. I really like some Laura´ songs ...&lt;br /&gt;Embora esta música me lembre trabalho (porque o CD toca lá o dia inteiro),adoro essa música  , adoro a Laura.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font &gt;&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É un'emergenza d'amore&lt;br /&gt;Il mio bisogno di te&lt;br /&gt;Un desiderio cosi speciale&lt;br /&gt;Che assomiglia a un dolore per me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É un'emergenza d'amore&lt;br /&gt;E no, non si chiede perché&lt;br /&gt;É un canto libero, verso il mare&lt;br /&gt;Questo viverti dentro di me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei il vino e il pane&lt;br /&gt;Un'esigenza naturale&lt;br /&gt;Sei un temporale che&lt;br /&gt;Porta il sole da me, dolcemente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi spiazzi il cuore ed io, ti porteró&lt;br /&gt;Dentro le mie tasche, ovunque andrai&lt;br /&gt;Come una moneta, un amuleto&lt;br /&gt;Che tra le mie mani, burleró&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É un'emergenza d'amore&lt;br /&gt;Questo volerti per me&lt;br /&gt;Averti adosso per non fare asciugare&lt;br /&gt;Dalla boca il sapore di te&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei il bene e il male&lt;br /&gt;Una battaglia un carnevale&lt;br /&gt;Sei la passione che&lt;br /&gt;No, non ha tregua per me, dolcemente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi spiazzi il cuore ed io, ti porteró&lt;br /&gt;Dentro le mie tasche, ovunque andrai andrai&lt;br /&gt;Come una moneta, un amuleto&lt;br /&gt;Che tra le mie mani, stringeró&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei la mia prigione, l'evasione dentro me&lt;br /&gt;Oltre la ragione&lt;br /&gt;Solamente io conosco cosa c'é&lt;br /&gt;Quell'amore che io ho per te&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Io te porteró&lt;br /&gt;Dentro le mie tasche, ovunque andrai&lt;br /&gt;Come un incantesimo segreto&lt;br /&gt;Per i giomi vuoti che vivró&lt;br /&gt;Per inseguirti in ogni viaggio, che farai&lt;br /&gt;Dentro le mie tasche, ovunque che andrai&lt;br /&gt;Come una moneta, un amuleto&lt;br /&gt;Che tra le mie mani, stringeró.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79594495?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79594495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79594495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79594495' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79526247</id><published>2002-07-28T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-28T17:27:04.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is everybody stressed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por que está todo o mundo estressado?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79526247?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79526247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79526247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79526247' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79493809</id><published>2002-07-27T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-27T19:33:01.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="gray"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When everything seems to be grey my favorite color break trough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get so happy when my favorite customer shows up. He´s so fun and funny , looks like a comedian.&lt;br /&gt;Always interested in books about brain, but he told me he´s a geography teacher( that kind of mad teacher) , bring me a lot of peace and make me laugh about silly things . And I think that I would like to find someone that has his sense of humour. Nice guy ...&lt;br /&gt;Such a character!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also met another nice person today. The boy and I tried to talk about our passion for cavalry novels and King Artur´s stuff , but customers were always breaking our conversation. I get impressed when I met boys like him, is the first guy that I know (aside from my professor) who  likes this kind of literature. What a pity we couldn´t talk a little more , he was so cute!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79493809?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79493809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79493809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79493809' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79461137</id><published>2002-07-26T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-26T19:33:08.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkorange"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The very substance of ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream."&lt;br /&gt;                         (Hamlet , Act II)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I´ve been so sad that seems like Álvares de Azevedo ghost is haunting me.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho andado tão triste que parece que o fantasma do Alvares de Azevedo está me assombrando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao desconcerto do mundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;os bons vi sempre passar &lt;br /&gt;no mundo graves tormentos ;&lt;br /&gt;E para mais me espantar ,&lt;br /&gt;Os maus vi sempre nadar &lt;br /&gt;Em mar de contentamentos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Camões- Lírica)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79461137?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79461137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79461137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79461137' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79418456</id><published>2002-07-25T19:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-25T20:04:18.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="blue"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o desconcerto do mundo.....&lt;br /&gt;gostaria de te dizer para parar de me fazer sentir uma idiota . Mas não posso, porque sem você eu não vivo. Mas sei tmabém que estou na sua mente. Nada me tira esta idéia da cabeça. Vontade de perguntar, mas tenho medo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79418456?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79418456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79418456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79418456' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79418430</id><published>2002-07-25T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-25T19:27:55.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>d&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79418430?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79418430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79418430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79418430' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79354494</id><published>2002-07-24T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-24T18:52:40.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I acctually can´t stand a character like  Gwynehfar.She´s so, so... silly. Stupid queen. I prefer Morgana. She must be in Avalon yet.&lt;br /&gt;I found out my passion for cavalry novels.&lt;br /&gt;How I miss my classes!! I really want the vacations to come to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.tramamusical.hpg.com.br/sininho.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ROSE LEIA ISTO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você está sozinho... Você e a torcida do Flamengo. Na frente da TV, devora dois pacotes de Doritos enquanto espera o telefone tocar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem que podia ser hoje, bem que podia ser agora, um amor novinho em folha. &lt;br /&gt;Trimmm! É a sua mãe, quem mais poderia ser? &lt;br /&gt;Amor nenhum faz chamadas por telepatia. Amor não atende com hora marcada. Ele pode chegar antes do esperado e encontrar você numa fase "galinha", sem disposição para relacionamentos sérios. Ele passa batido e você nem aí. Ou pode chegar tarde demais e encontrar você desiludido da vida, desconfiado, cheio de olheiras. O amor dá meia-volta, volver. Por que o amor nunca chega na hora certa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora, por exemplo, que você está de banho tomado de camisa e jeans. Agora que você está se achando bonito. Agora que você está empregado. Agora que você pintou o apartamento, ganhou um porta-retrato e começou a gostar de jazz. Agora que você está com coração às moscas e morrendo de frio... O amor aparece quando menos se espera e de onde menos se imagina. Você passa uma festa inteira hipnotizado por alguém que nem lhe enxerga e mal repara em outro alguém que só tem olhos para você. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E você busca refúgio numa locadora de vídeo, sem prever que ali mesmo, na locadora, irá encontrar a pessoa que dará sentido à sua vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O amor é como tesourinha de unha, nunca está onde a gente pensa. O jeito é direcionar o radar para norte, sul, leste e oeste. Seu amor pode estar no corredor de um supermercado, pode estar impaciente na fila de um banco, pode estar pechinchando numa livraria, pode estar esperando por você em outro país. Pode estar aqui mesmo, no computador, dando o maior mole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O amor está em todos os lugares, talvez você não o procure direito. &lt;br /&gt;A primeira lição está dada: o amor é onipresente. &lt;br /&gt;Agora a segunda: mas é imprevisível.&lt;br /&gt;Jamais espere ouvir "eu te amo" num jantar à luz de velas, no dia dos namorados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ou receber flores logo após a primeira transa. O amor odeia clichês. Você vai ouvir "eu te amo" numa terça-feira, às quatro da tarde, depois de uma discussão, ou quando você menos esperar. E as flores vão chegar num dia qualquer, apenas para informar-lhe como você é especial para alguém, assim...sem um motivo ou data especial. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A vida é uma peça de teatro que não permite ensaios. Por isso cante, chore, dance, ria e viva, intensamente, antes que a cortina se feche e a peça termine sem plausos".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que bom que alguém se lembra de mim e me diz algo bonito. tb sou gente , tb sou carente , tb preciso de elogios .Obrigada meu amigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79354494?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79354494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79354494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79354494' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79353249</id><published>2002-07-24T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-24T09:58:53.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkorange"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wierd and funny nightmare:&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt of a war in my kitchen and Hittler was there...&lt;br /&gt;*************************************&lt;br /&gt;I have to stop wishing things that I´ll never have.&lt;br /&gt;*************************************&lt;br /&gt;I love Fiona Apple´ songs.&lt;br /&gt;*************************************&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt of him(my "Álvares de Azevedo"). Nice. I always dreamt of people I´m missing.&lt;br /&gt;*************************************&lt;br /&gt;I always tought that my life in the future (that is now) would be diferent from what it is, but it´s not. I´ve been spending my time thinking about the future , not about the present , like a teenager(tough I don´t think I am a teenager anymore, acctually I feel very old) should.&lt;br /&gt;What kills me is thinking that I´m not the owner of my life yet, it scares me a lot. &lt;br /&gt;*************************************&lt;br /&gt;I hate my new manager. &lt;br /&gt;His head is funny.&lt;br /&gt;*************************************&lt;br /&gt;I´ve been so lazy. I should go to the airport today to fix my new problem , but ... I´m tired, I´m too tired, I just wanna catch some z´s. Wait I´m not lazy. No, it´s not true . I´m overworked, that´s the word.&lt;br /&gt;*************************************&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79353249?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79353249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79353249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79353249' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79228537</id><published>2002-07-21T13:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-24T10:44:03.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;size="4"&gt;&lt;font color="blue"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I still got the blues for you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://tramamusical.hpg.com.br/doll25.gif"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79228537?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79228537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79228537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79228537' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79089019</id><published>2002-07-17T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-17T19:40:05.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="gray"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Necessidade futil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta minha necessidade futil e perturbadora se torna pior a partir das 23 h quando encontro a tela em branco do espaço da vida de alguém que eu nem conheço e provavelmente nunca vou conhecer.&lt;br /&gt;O dia foi curto e não consegui terminar de ler Saramago porque seu livro é obscuro como esta noite de inverno. Odeio o inverno. O que não quer dizer uq eu não goste do livro, até consegui me transportar para Portugal de 1930 , mas  talvez a linguagem rebuscada esteja me causando esta tontura e não a labirintite.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; Futile need.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It´s 23:16, the screen is  blank and I´m desperate.&lt;br /&gt;The day is gone and I wasn´t able to finish reading Saramago´s "The year of the death of Ricardo Reis" because it´s dark like this winter night.I hate the winter. But it does´t mean that I don´t like the book , I until could transport  myself to 30´s Portugal and felt the cold wind in my face , but I think his  highly refined language it´s making me dizzy not the labyrinth disease.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79089019?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79089019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79089019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79089019' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-79044915</id><published>2002-07-16T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-16T19:27:04.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The one I "loved".&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn´t have a nice week. First I had a discussion with my (seal) boss. Two, I met my ex-boyfriend by chance  and he was with a really good looking girl, seemed very happy . Is not that I´m feeling jealous , is just that I´m sad because I´m alone, I recognize , I´ve been sad because I´m alone . I ´ve tryed to tell myself that I´ll be alright , but I won´t , I won´t . &lt;br /&gt;I really miss the times we used to be together. Now I know we were just kids that time, now he looks so much more tranquil and "man", but still have the same smile. I also remembered the last play he presented at the school (it really made me impressed). He played "GOD", he is such a good actor. &lt;br /&gt;Now this happy moments are gone,  how I feel old , it seems like it happened so much time ago, but it doesn´t . &lt;br /&gt;It may sound very silly and girly insecurity , but that´s how I feel now.Thinking how could it be if I had reacted in a diferent way when there was time enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-79044915?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79044915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/79044915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79044915' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78999605</id><published>2002-07-15T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-15T19:27:28.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="blue"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF BECAUSE &lt;B&gt;NOBODY ELSE&lt;/B&gt; WILL DO THAT FOR YOU. &lt;br /&gt;YES, I BELIEVE THAT. THAT´S HOW I FEEL NOW . THAT´S HOW I EVER FELT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78999605?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78999605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78999605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78999605' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78949148</id><published>2002-07-14T16:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-14T16:12:56.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>La solitudine è un pecato&lt;br /&gt;per tutti quelli come me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78949148?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78949148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78949148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78949148' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78921063</id><published>2002-07-13T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-13T19:32:56.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="blue"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Griffin thinks he fell in love with Sabine , but he doesn´t even know Sabine . Would Sabine be in love with Griffin?&lt;br /&gt;Griffin acha que se apaixonou por Sabine , mas ele nem a conhece . Estaria Sabine apaixonada por Griffin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78921063?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78921063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78921063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78921063' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78800367</id><published>2002-07-10T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-10T19:30:47.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Olivier Martinez é o nome do cara.&lt;br /&gt;Olivier Martinez ,até o nome é lindo!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78800367?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78800367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78800367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78800367' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78798896</id><published>2002-07-10T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-10T18:50:01.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkpink"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em dias agradáveis assim me pergunto por que tenho evitado de sair de casa a não ser que seja para trabalhar. Meus argumentos tem sido: "meu emprego anda me deixando deprimida " , "estou decepcionada com meus amigos" , "minha auto-estima não anda bem , vou me sentir mal em contato com outras pessoas" "não há nada para se fazer nesta cidade" , "tenho que estudar", "tenho que terminar de ler meu livro", "não tenho dinheiro para esbanjar com futilidades" etc, etc, etc. &lt;br /&gt;Hoje foi um dia bom , assisti um filme legal, melhorei meu astral , apesar de ter sido muito incomodada com a presença de um de meus acompanhantes. Nada de se espantar , as companhias masculinas de que tenho disposto não são lá grande coisa. &lt;br /&gt;Assim que o filme terminou , aliás , não era algo que se possa dizer :"meu deus, que filme!", mas não era tão ruim . Só o ator coadjuvante valeu a pena , não me recordo o nome dele , mas era algo latino , tinha um sotaque francês muito sexy. Quem não tiver outras opções  assistam a "infidelidade", já aviso , não é um filme de se encher salas.&lt;br /&gt;Depois disso, dei uma volta pelas minhas lojas favoritas. Todas elas esotéricas ou indianas. Fiquei louca por um medalhão de prata (digno de uma sacerdotisa), mas no momento não disponho de recursos financeiros para me dar tal presente. O que me deixa mal , é a hora de vir embora. Sempre digo que não vou o fazer , mas sempre peço para meu pai me buscar. Minha mãe odeia que eu faça isso , já que todos os dias são recheados deste mesmo ritual; e ele está cansado , patati patatá.... Poxa , mas será que eu não mereço? Ela age como se eu fosse uma boemia que chega em casa todos os dias Às 4 da manhã... eu mal saio de casa , será que é tanto incomodo pedir por gentileza a ele que me de 5 minutos do seu tempo, tá bom , 10 , que seja(que é o tempo que leva ) para se deslocar de casa ao shopping? Essa situação me deixa deseperada. Penso que preciso urgentemente tirar a minha carteira de motorista . Mas e a grana ? e o tempo ? Como conseguir tal coisa se mal posso comprar um sapato novo? Preciso de tantas coisas...&lt;br /&gt;O que me assusta é observar minha vida de fora. E a maioria das vezes  a observo e penso :"Que vida estúpida desta menina ". Para aliviar a dor, crio vários climaxes para  a vida dela , como no roteiro de um filme . Nestes sempre me vejo num apartamento bagunçado , xícaras de chá e toneladas de papel para serem corrigidos; e quando este climax é  uma das boas versões , aparece um herói , parecido com o francês do filme que assisti hoje, só que bem atrapalhado  mas inteligente  e que gosta de pintura. A maioria das vezes me dou conta que o cenário desse filme não pode ser o Brasil , a arquitetura da cidade em que me imagino não se parece nada com a cidade em que vivo. Talvez isso seja bom , porque hoje ouvi que se os sonhos são muito pequenos , não vale a pena sonhar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;English version. That´s a resume , because I don´t feel like abridging anything right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nice day , that guy annoyed me , but  that movie was cool. I hope i don´t see him so soon. The big cup of popcorn and coke were a better company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78798896?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78798896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78798896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78798896' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78634182</id><published>2002-07-06T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-06T19:20:02.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dia hilário   Hilarious day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu fui perseguida por um gringo hoje.Que situação embaraçosa , meu Deus. O cara pensa que só porque eu o atendi bem (como devo fazer com qualquer pessoa)eu daria meu telefone para ele ou  sairia com ele. Ah tenha dó. Que cara mais chato . Enche a minha caixa de entrada com e-mails estúpidos(sim , deu meu e-mail para ele , como dou para qualquer pessoa que eu conheça, élegal trocar e-mails.)Tive que me esconder no vestiário da loja...E meu colega de trabalho me ajudou a me esconder , mas ficou rindo de mim...&lt;br /&gt;Esse cara é da indonésia mas vive em Washington. Não isso não é nenhum elogio para o meu ego. Não mesmo. Só se ele fosse igual ou melhor do que um argentino que eu atendi sábado passado ...AHHHH aí sim. Oh sorriso lindo , foi no dia do jogo do Brasil... se fosse um daquele que pedisse meu telefone....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78634182?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78634182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78634182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78634182' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78603038</id><published>2002-07-05T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-05T19:28:53.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>--- have a nice vacation.&lt;br /&gt;---- what vacation?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78603038?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78603038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78603038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78603038' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78570758</id><published>2002-07-04T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-04T19:42:16.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;FONT FACE="COMIC SANS MS"&gt;&lt;FONT COLOR="RED"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT CROSS MY MIND ...&lt;br /&gt;A TWIST IN MY MIND...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONEY JUST BRING DISCORD BETWEEN PEOPLE. I TOUGHT I HAD A FRIEND. I HATE MY BOSS. I HATE MY JOB (TODAY). I NEED SOME CHOCOLATE. WHERE IS MY HAIR TIE? I WANT TO READ CAMÕES SONNETS. I MISS HIM. I HATE HER. WON´T DON´T HE LOOK AT ME? NO, WE DON´T HAVE ANY CINDERELA´S BOOK. DAMN , I LEFT MY LUNCH AT HOME...I NEED TO CALL JANE. I´M MORGANA , DENISE IS GWENHYFAIR. BUT GWENHYFAR IS SO STUPID, WHAT SILLY QUEEN...I WOULD LIKE TO LIVE IN AVALON. I DREAMT OF GOLD. I DREAMT OF A TRIP. YES, I WAS READY TO PACK MY BACK AND GO TO... I DON´T REMEMBER... YES, AND THERE WAS A LOT OF GOLD IN MY MOTHER´S ROOM. OH, ISN´T RONALDO´S SON CUTE?I´M TIRED. I THINK I HAVE PANIC DISEASE NOW. CAN WE HAVE PANCAKES FOR DINNER ? WHY NOT? WHAT ABOUT POPCORN? OK. LET´S WATCH "I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER". WHAT TIME IS IT? I´M READING THE BOOK FOUR NOW...I´M A WITCH . I REALLY AM. DISGUSTING DOG !!!I HATE TOMORROW. WHY DO I CRUCIFY MYSELF. "IT´S THAT WHY TEY CALL ME...SULLEN GIRL, SULLEN GIRL...". I WANT TO STUDY GERMAN. I WANT TO GO TO SPAIN. WHY DO I FEEL SO OLD ? MY SOUL IS OLD. POOR MUM. I KNOW I DIDN´T DO NOTHING WRONG. NO, I WON´T CRY. AT LEAST IN FRONT OF THEM.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78570758?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78570758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78570758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78570758' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78530968</id><published>2002-07-03T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-07-03T18:34:15.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Every finger in the room is pointing at me / I wanna spit in their faces then I get afraid of what that could bring / I got a bowling ball in my somach, I got a desert in my mouth / Figures that my courage would choose to sell out now / I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets / Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets / I've been raising up my hands- drive another nail in / Just what God needs, one more victim&lt;br /&gt;Why do we crucify ourselves / Everyday I crucify myself / Nothing I do is good enough for you / Crucify myself / Everyday I crucify myself / And my heart is sick of being in chains&lt;br /&gt;Got a kick for a dog, beggin' for love / Gotta have my suffering so that I can have my cross / I know a cat named easter, he says will you ever learn / You're just an empty cage girl if you kill the bird / I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets&lt;br /&gt;Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets / I've been raising up my hands- drive another nail in / Got enough guilt to start my own religion&lt;br /&gt;Why do we crucify ourselves / Everyday I crucify myself / Nothing I do is good enough for you / Crucify myself / Everyday I crucify myself / And my heart is sick of being in chains&lt;br /&gt;Please be / Save me / I cry&lt;br /&gt;Looking for a savior in these dirty streets / Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets / I've been raising up my hands- drive another nail in / Where are those angels when you need them&lt;br /&gt;Why do we crucify ourselves / Everyday I crucify myself / Nothing I do is good enough for you / Crucify myself / Everyday I crucify myself / And my heart is sick of being in chains &lt;br /&gt;Girl  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78530968?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78530968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78530968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78530968' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78397654</id><published>2002-06-30T17:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-30T17:24:26.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody cares about art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I´m a witch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78397654?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78397654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78397654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78397654' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78397653</id><published>2002-06-30T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-30T17:14:56.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="green"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That´s good everybody is smiling &lt;br /&gt;That´s good victory is ours&lt;br /&gt;That´s good the world is green and yellow today&lt;br /&gt;That´s good I saw my Dad crying for a good reason&lt;br /&gt;That´s good I´m brazilian&lt;br /&gt;That´s good we deserve it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78397653?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78397653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78397653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78397653' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78397422</id><published>2002-06-30T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-30T17:06:22.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="www.tramamusical.hpg.ig.com.br/bandeira.bmp"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78397422?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78397422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78397422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78397422' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78205815</id><published>2002-06-25T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-25T20:36:18.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkviolet"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="www.tramamusical.hpg.com.br/Doll25.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;há um tanto de coisas que eu gostaria que você disesse ou fizesse&lt;br /&gt;há um tanto de coisas que eu gostaria de ter coragem de dizer ou fazer&lt;br /&gt;me diga que você se importa&lt;br /&gt;não se demonstre tão prepotente &lt;br /&gt;não me faça sentir boba&lt;br /&gt;não me ignore&lt;br /&gt;não faça silêncio quando não tenho mais palavras&lt;br /&gt;diga que gosta de mim quando eu estiver pronta pra dormir&lt;br /&gt;não seja tão parecido comigo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78205815?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78205815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78205815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78205815' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78203835</id><published>2002-06-25T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-25T19:31:58.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="black"&gt; &lt;b&gt;Que a Deusa me ilumine pois eu estou cega&lt;br /&gt;Que a Deusa me guie pois no meu caminho sinto as sombras&lt;br /&gt;Que a Deusa toque sua harpa pois meus ouvidos precisam de música celestial&lt;br /&gt;Que a Deusa me envie os fluídos de paz , pois eu ando triste&lt;br /&gt;É mais fácil fazer parar de chover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78203835?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78203835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78203835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78203835' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78114103</id><published>2002-06-23T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-23T19:18:23.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkblue"&gt;&lt;b&gt;       &lt;br /&gt;Today the day was long &lt;br /&gt;I singing this song:&lt;br /&gt;                    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              I have climbed the highest mountains&lt;br /&gt;                              I have run through the fields&lt;br /&gt;                              Only to be with you, only to be with you&lt;br /&gt;                              I have run I have crawled                             &lt;br /&gt;                              I have scaled these city walls                        &lt;br /&gt;                              These city walls, only to be with you                                      &lt;br /&gt;                                But I still haven't found what I'm looking for&lt;br /&gt;                                But I still haven't found what I'm looking for&lt;br /&gt;                               &lt;br /&gt;                              I have kissed honey lips                              &lt;br /&gt;                              Felt the healing in her fingertips&lt;br /&gt;                              It burned like fire, this burning desire&lt;br /&gt;                              I have spoke with the tongue of angels&lt;br /&gt;                              I have held the hand of a devil&lt;br /&gt;                              It was warm in the night, I was cold as a stone&lt;br /&gt;              &lt;br /&gt;                                But I still haven't found what I'm looking for&lt;br /&gt;                                       &lt;br /&gt;                                But I still haven't found what I'm looking for&lt;br /&gt;                               &lt;br /&gt;                              I believe in the Kingdom Come&lt;br /&gt;                              Then all the colors will bleed into one&lt;br /&gt;                              Bleed into one, but yes I'm still running.&lt;br /&gt;                               &lt;br /&gt;                              You broke the bonds and you loosened the chains&lt;br /&gt;                              You carried the cross and my shame&lt;br /&gt;                                      &lt;br /&gt;                              And my shame, you know I believe it&lt;br /&gt;                               &lt;br /&gt;                                      &lt;br /&gt;                                But I still haven't found what I'm looking for&lt;br /&gt;                                      &lt;br /&gt;                                But I still haven't found what I'm looking for   &lt;br /&gt;                               &lt;br /&gt;                               &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78114103?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78114103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78114103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78114103' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-78049631</id><published>2002-06-21T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-21T19:22:23.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkviolet"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the victory day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A listened to Oasis songs . My favorite one is "Don´t go away".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I´m very tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde você está , Rose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I´m sick but I´m pretty , baby&lt;br /&gt;I care but I´m restless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Alanis)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please , tell me that you care for me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baja del cielo un angel triste cerca de mí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A child´s smile is what can make me feel happy.&lt;br /&gt;The Asian little girl really made me feel interested in the books of  Harry Potter. Maybe I´m gonna read one  tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-78049631?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78049631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/78049631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78049631' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-77933167</id><published>2002-06-19T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-21T19:09:36.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H   O  W &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How silly I am &lt;br /&gt;How stupid I am&lt;br /&gt;How crazy I am&lt;br /&gt;How I wanted to call his attention&lt;br /&gt;How  insignificant  I am&lt;br /&gt;How pretty are those eyes&lt;br /&gt;How blind are mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little girls in love always do silly things , but I don't think I'm a little girl anymore, altough I did a silly thing .&lt;br /&gt; I'm here wake up early without reason , now I have to go back home. There's a long day to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="violet"&gt; Everybody has got a little of Holden Caulfield. I really do. But it isn´t a reason to kill a superstar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-77933167?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77933167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77933167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77933167' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-77826024</id><published>2002-06-16T18:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-19T06:28:37.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L Ó T U S&lt;/font &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="darkblue"&gt;&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;I need some Lotus . I need to find this flower . Where the hell is it ?&lt;br /&gt;The infinite hapiness flower , as the greek used to say... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L Ó T  U S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preciso de um pouco de lótus . Em que diabo de lugar se encontra esta flor?&lt;br /&gt;A flor da felicidade infinita, como os gregos costumavam dizer . &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-77826024?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77826024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77826024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77826024' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-77825858</id><published>2002-06-16T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-16T18:25:49.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose , you´re my best friend .&lt;br /&gt;Rose, você é minha melhor amiga.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-77825858?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77825858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77825858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77825858' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-77665318</id><published>2002-06-12T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-12T12:39:52.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkviolet"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don´t tell me is valentine ´s day ...shit!! I tired of this !! I don´t care . I have a lot of things to do. I won´t care until I find my own Tian Tian. If that day don´t come until I die , that´s ok , it´s my fate . As my Mum tells me: "we all have our destiny" . We have to learn in this life what we didn´t learn last life. Yes , I do believe it. But I won´t tell you now about my reencarnation superstitons.&lt;br /&gt;I have been sick. Seems like my alergy doesn´t want to leave me. I have a psycologist aunt and she always tells me it has emotional cause. It is because of immunological&lt;i&gt;( I don´t know if I wrote this word correctly , I searched it in the dictionary but i didn´t find)&lt;/i&gt; system. Its power gets lower and we get fragiler. She really gets my goat when talk about it . &lt;br /&gt;What does she mean? I wish she ´d take care of her own life not mine. That enough when she complain about my way, the course I choose , my CD´s , my books, my computer, my music. Why does she insist on it? If she thinks I have emotional problems or I´m depressed she should tell me exactly that. But I think the crazy one is her. But seems like when you are balanced , caring, enjoy good songs , have non conventional friends and don´t have a boyfriend you are an alien. Sorry people I´m an alien.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me diga que é dia dos Namorados ... m...!!! Estou cansada disso !! Eu não me importo . Tenho mais o que fazer . Eu não vou me importar até encontrar o meu próprio Tian Tian .&lt;br /&gt;Ando doente, com uma alergia que não se cura. Não sei mais o que fazer. Tenho uma tia psicóloga que sempre me diz que isso tem fundo emocional. Quando não estamos bem, o poder do nosso sitema imunológico baixa. E isso nos torna mais frágeis a qualquer tipo de doença. Ela me irrita profundamente quando insiste em me repetir isso infinitas vezes. Parece que se você é equilibrado , atencioso, curte boa música e tem amigos não convencionais  e não tem um namorado , você é um alien. Desculpem -me , sou um alien.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda sem título          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barulho perturbador da massa consumista. Seus pensamentos flutuando no ar como bolhas de sabão.  Repetida e mecanicamente executando suas funções e  comprimentos de saudação e agradecimento aos clientes.&lt;br /&gt;Rodeada de gente sem nome , rodeada de gente vazia. Observando a agitação como quem assiste a um filme repetido. Parece que o ar existe apenas no lado de fora.&lt;br /&gt;Uma pausa para jogar uma água no rosto , mas sem querer enxergar seus próprios olhos no espelho. Um clima de moleza e cores alaranjadas ofuscam sua visão como as de um pôr-do-sol de uma tarde de verão.&lt;br /&gt;Durante os dez últimos minutos do expediente o relógio parece andar em câmera lenta.  O sonzinho abafado da trilha sonora que toca nos corredores das lojas de conveniência causam -lhe uma sonolência inevitável. &lt;br /&gt;No caminho para casa , sentada à janela,  observa as mesmas pessoas que como ela fazem todos os dias o mesmo caminho e seguem a mesma rotina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;continua na próxima , pois agora me falta inspiração...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-77665318?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77665318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77665318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77665318' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-77636282</id><published>2002-06-11T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-11T19:50:47.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font color="darkblue"&gt;&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don´t ask me how my day was&lt;br /&gt;Don´t ask me if is everything ok&lt;br /&gt;Don´t ask me how I feel about it&lt;br /&gt;I just want you to tell me &lt;br /&gt;that I were meant for you&lt;br /&gt;All I want is reading your eyes&lt;br /&gt;be close to you trough rainy night&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally finished reading the book. &lt;br /&gt;Espiritual , pervert , philosofical, girly, loving , delicate.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if guys like Tian Tian just exist in books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-77636282?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77636282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77636282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77636282' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-77591920</id><published>2002-06-10T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-10T20:00:22.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="darkpink"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"... eu precisava acreditar que era a garota mais sortuda e bonita do mundo que milagres acontecem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"__ A solução para todos os problemas é nunca tentar enganar a si mesmo..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to have my &lt;i&gt;baobei&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao chegar na faculdade hoje para fazer meu teste de literatura inglesa , qual é a figura com quem eu primeiramente dou de cara? Quem,   com o retrato ambulante do Álvares de Azevedo. Meu olhar se perde em seguir cada movimento querendo decifrar seus gestos . Fico querendo ler sua alma , e parece que eu sei tudo sobre a  sua existência. Minhas expressões tentam ser indiferentes  quando seu olhar me alcança por apenas um relance , mas meu coração não faz outra coisa além de palpitar e sangrar por algo que provavelmente nunca terá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje descobri que há um restaurante espanhol aqui no shopping . " Esquisita paella!!!! ", yo creo que si!! Parece que este ar euro-latino anda soprando demais nos meus ouvidos . Conheci também uma agente de viagens (ela estava lá fazendo um esquema de visitas `as cidades. Ela me disse coisas maravilhosas e que por $10,00 é possivel pegar um ônibus e conhecer toda a cidade. Queria muito estar esta hora no metro que parte para Sevilla . Mas no momento o que posso fazer é me confinar neste ar condicionado e separar uns trocados na esperança de um dia poder ouvir o choque dos sapatos de uma dancarina de flamenco contra o chão de um teatro aconchegante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-77591920?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77591920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77591920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77591920' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3397566.post-77516701</id><published>2002-06-08T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2002-06-08T20:11:39.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;&lt;font color="green"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally tomorrow is Sunday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hip hurts. My feet just can´t stand my body´s weight.&lt;br /&gt;I can´t get a song out of mind .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brazilian soccer team  was brillant today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brazil 4 x 0 China . Such a Great Game!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took  a look at Kurt Cobains biography (Heavier than Heaven) he was such a cute baby ...and a very sensitive man. I like some of his songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carta para Blossom Russo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando tão avoada. Ando triste. Não depressiva, porque minha tristeza já se resguardou, eu apenas guardo os meus suspiros  e meus olhos distantes . Fico achando que ninguém vale a pena , até minha comunicação com o mundo anda mal. Fico me sentindo substituível. Que não faço diferença. Um terrível medo se abateu sobre mim : ando com uma crise vocacional.Me sinto burra . Muito burra .Às vezes tenho impressão de que sou invisível. Sonho muito com a Espanha e com Portugal. Muito. Até conheci um amigo Pedro . Não sei onde mas o conheci. Ele anda na minha cabeça. E ele é um artista muito meigo e eu escrevo cartas para ele .Tenho medo de me apaixonar por ele , me afogar e nunca mais retornar dessa alucinação .Queria tanto escrever meu romance . Queria tanto que minha inspiração voltasse. Queria fazer algo especial . Ser especial . Estou lendo um livro muito legal : "XANGAI BABY" , ele é um pouco filosófico , um pouco pervertido , um pouco romântico a narração muito observadora me lembra Machado de Assis. Gosto da personagem , ela me faz lembrar... eu. Nikki está também tentando escrever um romance , mas o que me irrita é que venho nela todos os meus defeitos e invejo todas as suas qualidades(já que não as tenho).&lt;br /&gt;Como você anda? Quando você apenas coloca letras de musica da Mariah Carey no blog algo me diz que vocÊ não está bem...nada bem , porque este é o ponto extremo , é o fim . A mariah é o fim ...( respeito o seu gosto , mas que ela se tornou uma sei- lá o- que , é verdade . "Deus é mais" ... ( -como diz minha amiga, confesso que tenho o cd , mas isso foi uma crise melosa sentimental dos meus 13 anos)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;beijos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3397566-77516701?l=autopsicografia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77516701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3397566/posts/default/77516701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://autopsicografia.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77516701' title=''/><author><name>E.V.B.R</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
