<?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-7369969057727365855</id><updated>2012-01-13T08:37:48.277Z</updated><title type='text'>by mr</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>90</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-510918237614268150</id><published>2011-10-24T00:32:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T00:35:25.641+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Partida</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gTcF0YzV8dk/TqSkiYJ23eI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/PvQd9YnD1-4/s1600/ir.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666835141645229538" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gTcF0YzV8dk/TqSkiYJ23eI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/PvQd9YnD1-4/s320/ir.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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 align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Como poderei ir-me em paz e sem pena? Não, não será sem um ferimento na alma que deixarei esta cidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Longos foram os dias de amargura que passei dentro de suas muralhas, elongas as noites de solidão; e quem pode despedir-se sem tristeza de sua amargura e de sua solidão?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Muitos foram os pedaços de minha alma que espalhei nestas ruas, e muitos são os filhos de minha ansiedade que caminham, desnudos, entre estas colinas, e não posso abandoná-los sem me sentir oprimido e entristecido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não é uma simples vestimenta que dispo hoje, mas a própria epiderme que arranco com minhas mãos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Nem é um mero pensamento que deixo atrás de mim, mas um coração enternecido pela fome e a sede.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Contudo, não posso demorar-me por mais tempo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O mar que chama a si todas as coisas está me chamando, e devo embarcar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Pois permanecer aqui, enquanto as horas queimam-se na noite, seria congelar-me e cristalizar-me num molde."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O Profeta, Khalil Gybran&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-510918237614268150?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/510918237614268150/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=510918237614268150&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/510918237614268150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/510918237614268150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2011/10/partida.html' title='Partida'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gTcF0YzV8dk/TqSkiYJ23eI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/PvQd9YnD1-4/s72-c/ir.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4183020175413956264</id><published>2011-10-14T00:43:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T00:47:36.820+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Liberdade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OuRb68iu3w4/Tpd4RNJSatI/AAAAAAAAAQs/C_gg7oWgdbo/s1600/59654_155019851195824_100000634311479_324205_740963_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663127293423413970" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OuRb68iu3w4/Tpd4RNJSatI/AAAAAAAAAQs/C_gg7oWgdbo/s320/59654_155019851195824_100000634311479_324205_740963_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: mr&lt;/span&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 align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sinto-me livre!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Verdadeiramente livre! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Correr num extenso areal e sentir o vento em meu rosto!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sentir que sou capaz de tudo, e que tudo está ao meu alcance, basta quer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sentir que controlo a minha vida, que detenho nas minhas mãos, hoje, o rumo do amanhã!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saber que posso agora estar aqui e daqui a um segundo estar no outro lado do mundo sem qualquer impedimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tudo isto faz-me sentir bem, faz-me sentir vivo, faz-me sentir feliz, e sorrir sem qualquer motivo aparente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Apenas sorrir, ser feliz e deixar o meu peito, o meu coração transbordar de uma felicidade enorme e por isso doar a todos os que se cruzam comigo o único sentimento que nos liga a todos, AMOR!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4183020175413956264?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4183020175413956264/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4183020175413956264&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4183020175413956264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4183020175413956264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2011/10/liberdade.html' title='Liberdade'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OuRb68iu3w4/Tpd4RNJSatI/AAAAAAAAAQs/C_gg7oWgdbo/s72-c/59654_155019851195824_100000634311479_324205_740963_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-3300370717087120405</id><published>2011-10-02T02:04:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T02:29:57.302+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Obrigado</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mXd_17k3i2M/Toe-PuGSdhI/AAAAAAAAAQk/zGIqMFWs23I/s1600/path.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658700634096039442" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mXd_17k3i2M/Toe-PuGSdhI/AAAAAAAAAQk/zGIqMFWs23I/s320/path.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nada na nesta nossa vida acontece por acaso. Ainda que por vezes não consigamos entender o porquê de certos acontecimentos, todos eles, por mais pequenos que sejam contribuem para o nosso crescimento, para a nossa evolução, para um caminho por nós trilhado muito antes de nascermos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Assim o sinto, e assim acredito que o seja...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;De igual forma com as pessoas com que nos cruzamos na rua, que reconhecemos diariamente dos transportes púbicos ou do café matinal - que cremos ser essa a energia que nos faz viver mais um dia de olhos abertos - até mesmo com as pessoas com que apenas nos cruzamos uma só vez. Mas mais que isso, muito mais que isso, as pessoas que fazem parte da nossa vida, que guardamos no nosso coração, que amamos e que os chamamos de familia, de amigos, de companheiros, de filhos, etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sinto-me abençoado por na minha vida, ter conhecido pessoas especiais, que me ensinaram muitas coisas, que fizeram de mim a pessoa que sou hoje, e que me deram a mão para chegar ao tal caminho que eu próprio outrora desenhei para mim. A todas elas, o meu obrigado! E se já não nos encontramos como antes, não significa que não me recordo delas ou que não as continue a amar. Mas cada um de nós tem o seu caminho próprio, e guardo-as a todas no meu coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Para aqueles que os nossos caminhos continuam a cruzar-se, saibam que me fazem sorrir todos os dias, que me sinto humildemente agradecido e lisonjeado por poder partilhar a minha vida convosco e por de certa forma também fazer parte da vossa. E muito obrigado por me fazerem sentir amado, por sentir que tenho valor para todos vós, e que as minhas pequenas experiências possam contribuir para as vossas alegrias, para a vossa paz, para a vossa tranquilidade, que auxiliem a iluminar o vosso caminho, pois é isso que todos vós me fazem a mim sentir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A todos os que já comigo se cruzaram, os que se cruzam e os que ainda irão cruzar, o meu muito obrigado!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Amo-vos a todos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-3300370717087120405?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/3300370717087120405/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=3300370717087120405&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3300370717087120405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3300370717087120405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2011/10/obrigado.html' title='Obrigado'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mXd_17k3i2M/Toe-PuGSdhI/AAAAAAAAAQk/zGIqMFWs23I/s72-c/path.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4309279979100718064</id><published>2011-06-13T03:26:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T03:30:50.185+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Reiki</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d7xfKsjloZI/TfV12niTKjI/AAAAAAAAAQc/_WB5Lo1r7CM/s1600/namaste.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 217px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 249px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617525691400792626" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d7xfKsjloZI/TfV12niTKjI/AAAAAAAAAQc/_WB5Lo1r7CM/s320/namaste.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O Reiki apareceu na minha vida, junto com o meu grande amor. Foi ela quem mo apresentou, e quem mo explicou pela primeira vez!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desde ai, e passados quase 3 anos e meio, tornei-me reikiano, e muita coisa na minha vida mudou. O melhor de tudo, é que a mudança veio de dentro de mim. Fui eu quem mudou, quem passou a viver e a experienciar os momentos de forma diferente, a olhar para os outros e para as situações da vida quotidiana de forma diferente, e ai tudo à minha volta mudou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Imaginem que têm um jardim em casa e que não lhe dão a devida importância. Mas assim que começam a cuidar desse jardim, a colocar plantas e flores, a tratá-las e a conversar com elas, a forma como olhamos para esse jardim é completamente diferente. Não só pelo que nos transmite no momento, mas também pelo orgulho que sentimo ao ver os frutos do nosso trabalho. É assim que eu vejo o que o Reiki fez comigo. O Reiki funciona como um adjuvante, um adubo do meu jardim, que é a minha vida, esta minha existência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por isso, eu sou grato. À energia Reiki, aos mestes que ma facilitam, à minha mestre de Reiki que me iniciou, mas principalmente, a quem me apresentou o Reiki, e que continua a caminhar comigo de mãos dadas, e que me faz sorrir, apenas porque sim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4309279979100718064?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4309279979100718064/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4309279979100718064&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4309279979100718064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4309279979100718064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2011/06/reiki.html' title='Reiki'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d7xfKsjloZI/TfV12niTKjI/AAAAAAAAAQc/_WB5Lo1r7CM/s72-c/namaste.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4309648498456250565</id><published>2011-03-12T04:16:00.004Z</published><updated>2011-03-12T04:26:29.711Z</updated><title type='text'>A simplicidade...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NoZw688qm_c/TXr0grxbAKI/AAAAAAAAAPw/GJPPJVImsS4/s1600/tumblr_l5365swTpC1qzljd6o1_500.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 212px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583043530422157474" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NoZw688qm_c/TXr0grxbAKI/AAAAAAAAAPw/GJPPJVImsS4/s320/tumblr_l5365swTpC1qzljd6o1_500.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;... de tudo aquilo que vivemos e porque lutamos diariamente, está mesmo ao nosso lado!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Basta pararmos, e escutarmos e vermos com mais atenção!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;E a partir daí, tudo se constrói de uma forma simples e com o melhor sentimento do mundo, o único que é real: o AMOR!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4309648498456250565?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4309648498456250565/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4309648498456250565&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4309648498456250565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4309648498456250565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2011/03/simplicidade.html' title='A simplicidade...'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NoZw688qm_c/TXr0grxbAKI/AAAAAAAAAPw/GJPPJVImsS4/s72-c/tumblr_l5365swTpC1qzljd6o1_500.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-465297565747235594</id><published>2010-09-13T04:52:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T05:01:25.024+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tarde de Domingo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/TI2h8yBAo8I/AAAAAAAAAPI/4LvJ4US25vI/s1600/61886_467800385718_761275718_6618396_2267941_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516243184188957634" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/TI2h8yBAo8I/AAAAAAAAAPI/4LvJ4US25vI/s320/61886_467800385718_761275718_6618396_2267941_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: van&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O Amor está mesmo nas coisas mais pequenas, nos detalhes, nos promenores!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nada melhor do que um passeio inesperado num fim de tarde de Domingo, com o conhecer de sitios e o experimentar de coisas imperdíveis no nosso pais, seguido de um jantar num restaurante que se quer experimentar há algum tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O oferecer um presente que se pensou do nada e que num impulso se adquiriu tudo o que era necessário para o completar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nada melhor que um dar de mãos a passear na rua, umas boas gargalhadas ao jantar, o provar o melhor gelado do mundo, e voltar a ver o brilho nos olhos de quem amamos, o sentir mais&lt;br /&gt;uma vez o doce quente e húmido sabor dos seus lábios!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nada como amar, Como amá-la e ser amado, como sentir o seu reconforto quando choramos, e o toque das suas mãos a dizer que vai estar connosco para todo o sempre!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-465297565747235594?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/465297565747235594/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=465297565747235594&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/465297565747235594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/465297565747235594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2010/09/tarde-de-domingo.html' title='Tarde de Domingo'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/TI2h8yBAo8I/AAAAAAAAAPI/4LvJ4US25vI/s72-c/61886_467800385718_761275718_6618396_2267941_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5548742103563436947</id><published>2010-09-04T04:49:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T05:00:24.071+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Porque Sim!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/TIHDh9mOf-I/AAAAAAAAAOw/Ru_B2MiyUKw/s1600/typing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 210px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512902407116193762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/TIHDh9mOf-I/AAAAAAAAAOw/Ru_B2MiyUKw/s320/typing.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje, senti vontade de voltar a escrever aqui!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há mais de 1 ano que não o fazia e já nem me lembrava do blog sequer, mas hoje senti vontade de escrever!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Várias coisas me ocorreram, mas no entanto nenhum tema me pareceu suficientemente oportuno!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por isso, e porque nem tudo na vida tem que ser específico ou com sentido, aqui fica apenas um post porque sim! porque senti vontade de escrever! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5548742103563436947?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5548742103563436947/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5548742103563436947&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5548742103563436947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5548742103563436947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2010/09/porque-sim.html' title='Porque Sim!'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/TIHDh9mOf-I/AAAAAAAAAOw/Ru_B2MiyUKw/s72-c/typing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5074577195131424987</id><published>2009-02-19T04:29:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-19T04:41:11.031Z</updated><title type='text'>As horas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/SZzivT_kUhI/AAAAAAAAANQ/w_-Y0HO8ufA/s1600-h/37.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304363763584225810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/SZzivT_kUhI/AAAAAAAAANQ/w_-Y0HO8ufA/s320/37.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: van&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As horas que passo sem ti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passo-as apenas a gastar o tempo, passo-as a pensar no proximo momento em que te vou ter novamente nos meus bracos, em que te posso tocar, em que posso sentir o teu cheiro, e tocar nos teus cabelos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dou por mim, por vezes no meio dessas horas, a pensar nos teus olhos, e viver uma vez mais muitos dos momentos em que me olhas, daquela forma que me deixa o corpo estagnado, e o espirito, a minha verdadeira essência a reconhecer esse olhar de há muitos anos, de há muitas vidas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As horas que passo sem ti, ainda que possa não parecer, passo-as assim, a ansiar por ti, a recordar-me de ti, e sentir o meu amor a crescer por ti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5074577195131424987?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5074577195131424987/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5074577195131424987&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5074577195131424987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5074577195131424987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2009/02/as-horas.html' title='As horas'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/SZzivT_kUhI/AAAAAAAAANQ/w_-Y0HO8ufA/s72-c/37.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-8618202387435235949</id><published>2008-02-24T05:11:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-02-24T05:25:17.208Z</updated><title type='text'>Bryan Adams - Let's Make a Night to Remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xbb5Qt9RQLY&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xbb5Qt9RQLY&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-8618202387435235949?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/8618202387435235949/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=8618202387435235949&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8618202387435235949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8618202387435235949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/bryan-adams-lets-make-night-to-remember.html' title='Bryan Adams - Let&apos;s Make a Night to Remember'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7854734384560057251</id><published>2008-02-21T05:11:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-02-21T05:11:50.129Z</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your Taste in Music:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/howsyourtasteinmusicquiz/music.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80's Pop: Highest Influence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90's Alternative: Highest Influence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80's Alternative: High Influence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80's Rock: High Influence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adult Alternative: High Influence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howsyourtasteinmusicquiz/"&gt;How's Your Taste in Music?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7854734384560057251?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7854734384560057251/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7854734384560057251&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7854734384560057251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7854734384560057251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/quiz_7098.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-2705380280949303030</id><published>2008-02-21T05:06:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-02-21T05:06:44.251Z</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You Are Fozzie Bear&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/themuppetpersonalitytest/fozzie.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wocka! Wocka!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're the life of the party, and you love making people crack up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only your routine didn't always bomb!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may find more groans than laughs, but always keep the jokes coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/themuppetpersonalitytest/"&gt;The Muppet Personality Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-2705380280949303030?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/2705380280949303030/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=2705380280949303030&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2705380280949303030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2705380280949303030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/quiz_21.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-1879777238731763218</id><published>2008-02-20T13:24:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-02-20T13:24:38.550Z</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your Emoticon Is Smiling&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/whatemoticonbestrepresentsyourightnowquiz/smiling.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, you're feeling cheerful and content - without a care in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatemoticonbestrepresentsyourightnowquiz/"&gt;What Emoticon Best Represents You Right Now?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-1879777238731763218?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/1879777238731763218/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=1879777238731763218&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1879777238731763218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1879777238731763218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/quiz.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-1488838629157487845</id><published>2008-02-20T03:02:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-02-20T03:13:46.789Z</updated><title type='text'>A-HA - Hunting High and Low</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="300" height="80"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/A0MbEbE78r/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/A0MbEbE78r/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="80" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Here I am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And within the reach of my hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She sounds asleep and she's sweeter now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Than the wildest dream could have seen her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And I Watch her slipping away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Though I know I'll be hunting high and low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;High&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's no end to the lengths I'll go to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hunting high and low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;High&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's no end to lengths I'll go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;To find her again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Upon this my dreams are depending&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Through the dark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I sense the pounding of her heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Next to mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She's the sweetest love I could find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So I guess I'll be hunting high and low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;High&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's no end to the lengths I'll go to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;High and Low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;High&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Do you know what it means to love you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm hunting high and low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And now she's telling me she's got to go away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'll always be hunting high and low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hungry for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Watch me tearing myself to pieces&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hunting high and low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;High&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's no end to the lengths I'll go to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh, for you I'll be hunting high and low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-1488838629157487845?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/1488838629157487845/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=1488838629157487845&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1488838629157487845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1488838629157487845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/ha-hunting-high-and-low.html' title='A-HA - Hunting High and Low'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-1777132204519125363</id><published>2008-02-20T02:55:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:35.177Z</updated><title type='text'>Desafio II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R7uXukHrRuI/AAAAAAAAAIk/jdgt-TbstFg/s1600-h/DSC02378.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168891823563425506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R7uXukHrRuI/AAAAAAAAAIk/jdgt-TbstFg/s320/DSC02378.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: mr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aqui há uns tempos atrás, coloquei um post - &lt;a href="http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/11/desafio.html"&gt;desafio&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Agora, parece-me bem dizer que as nuvens átonas desapareceram, e que não só agora vejo o azul do céu, como sinto ainda o calor do Sol!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Obrigado por existires, por fazeres parte da minha vida, por me teres escolhido a mim, e com isso me deixares a sentir que sou a pessoa mais felizarda do universo e me permitires fazer-te feliz!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Obrigado por me ouvires, por me entenderes, por me fazeres sorrir como nunca sorri em toda a minha vida, por me segurares na mão, por me tranquilizares, por fazeres parte de mim e por me permitires ser parte de ti!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Obrigado por tudo! Por tudo o que passou, por tudo o que está a passar e por tudo o que ainda vamos passar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-1777132204519125363?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/1777132204519125363/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=1777132204519125363&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1777132204519125363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1777132204519125363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/fonte-mr-aqui-h-uns-tempos-atrs.html' title='Desafio II'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R7uXukHrRuI/AAAAAAAAAIk/jdgt-TbstFg/s72-c/DSC02378.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-8899023259619264736</id><published>2008-02-19T02:40:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-02-19T02:43:27.106Z</updated><title type='text'>Frank Sinatra - Night and Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qsdzGzLzA2Q&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qsdzGzLzA2Q&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Night and day, you are the one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Only you beneath the moon or under the sun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Whether near to me, or far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's no matter darling where you are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I think of you day and night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Night and day, why is it so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;That this longing for you follows wherever I go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In the roaring traffic's boom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In the silence of my lonely room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I think of you day and night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Night and day,under the hide of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And this torment won't be through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Until you let me spend my life making love to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Day and night, night and day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-8899023259619264736?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/8899023259619264736/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=8899023259619264736&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8899023259619264736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8899023259619264736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/frank-sinatra-night-and-day.html' title='Frank Sinatra - Night and Day'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4184887765568847868</id><published>2008-02-17T18:53:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:35.883Z</updated><title type='text'>Dia de S. Valentim</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R7iEDkHrRtI/AAAAAAAAAIc/mV_A1xN4h4g/s1600-h/love3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168025769177990866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R7iEDkHrRtI/AAAAAAAAAIc/mV_A1xN4h4g/s320/love3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: mr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R7iDMUHrRsI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Hw3_POr9oq4/s1600-h/love+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há dias que para nós são especiais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há datas em que de certa forma somos como que impelidos a comemorar certas coisas, quanto mais não seja para que não caiam no esquecimento, e pelo menos uma vez no ano nos lembremos do que elas representam. Na minha opinião, estas datas têm o dom de avivar os sentidos dos esquecidos e de celebrar de uma forma universal os sentimentos daqueles que se amam desde sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O melhor de tudo, é quando essas datas lembradas, para nós, não passam disso mesmo. De mais uma data, de mais uma página no calendário, de mais um dia em que somos felizes, de um momento que passamos com quem amamos e que juntamos a todos os que já tivemos, e que guardamos no infinito de nós mesmos à espera dos próximos momentos que se seguirão na próxima vez que os nossos olhares se cruzarem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero que todos tenham tido um dia de S. Valentim, tão especial quanto o meu foi, tão doce como têm sido todos desde há uns tempos para cá, e tão cheios de amor e de calor como serão os próximo, sem excepção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4184887765568847868?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4184887765568847868/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4184887765568847868&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4184887765568847868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4184887765568847868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/dia-de-s-valentim.html' title='Dia de S. Valentim'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R7iEDkHrRtI/AAAAAAAAAIc/mV_A1xN4h4g/s72-c/love3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7895821265487175677</id><published>2008-02-11T04:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-11T04:49:22.350Z</updated><title type='text'>Jack Johnson - Angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="300" height="80"&gt;&lt;param value="http://media.imeem.com/m/wn3182Xtbg/aus=false/" name="movie"/&gt;&lt;param value="transparent" name="wmode"/&gt;&lt;embed width="300" src="http://media.imeem.com/m/wn3182Xtbg/aus=false/" height="80" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've got an angel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She doesn't wear any wings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She wears a heart that can melt my own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She wears a smile that can make me wanna sing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She gives me presentsWith her presence alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She gives me everything I could wish for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She gives me kisses on the lips just for coming home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She could make angels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've seen it with my own eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You gotta be careful when you've got good love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cause the angels will just keep on multiplying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But you're so busy changing the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just one smile can change all of mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We share the same soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh oh oh oh oh ohhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We Share the same soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh oh oh oh oh ohhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We Share the same soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh oh oh oh oh ohhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh oh oh oh oh ohhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Umm umm umm uhhhhhhmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7895821265487175677?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7895821265487175677/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7895821265487175677&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7895821265487175677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7895821265487175677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/jack-johnson-angel.html' title='Jack Johnson - Angel'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-3631561580218962118</id><published>2008-02-10T05:17:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:36.399Z</updated><title type='text'>Sinais?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R66JhkHrRqI/AAAAAAAAAIE/DSY4LCmwxlY/s1600-h/DSC07130.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165217032365098658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R66JhkHrRqI/AAAAAAAAAIE/DSY4LCmwxlY/s320/DSC07130.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165217685200127666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R66KHkHrRrI/AAAAAAAAAIM/4lcccQlMtbc/s320/DSC07131.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: mr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-3631561580218962118?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/3631561580218962118/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=3631561580218962118&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3631561580218962118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3631561580218962118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/sinais.html' title='Sinais?'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R66JhkHrRqI/AAAAAAAAAIE/DSY4LCmwxlY/s72-c/DSC07130.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-372859555160257170</id><published>2008-02-09T19:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-09T19:57:09.744Z</updated><title type='text'>Michael Buble - Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fzlo4HyGwKw&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fzlo4HyGwKw&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-372859555160257170?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/372859555160257170/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=372859555160257170&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/372859555160257170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/372859555160257170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/02/michael-buble-home.html' title='Michael Buble - Home'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7789091025350342119</id><published>2008-01-30T04:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:36.817Z</updated><title type='text'>Fazes-me Falta!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R6ABJMWwRoI/AAAAAAAAAH0/mmuLKGoneQk/s1600-h/77V1Cr960315-03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161126430413702786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R6ABJMWwRoI/AAAAAAAAAH0/mmuLKGoneQk/s320/77V1Cr960315-03.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fazes-me falta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sinto-me vazio sem ti! Sem o calor das tuas mãos, sem o toque dos teus lábios, sem o teu sorriso, sem o infinito do teu olhar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Já te disse que adoro os teus olhos? Sim já! Já te começo a dizer as mesmas coisas várias vezes! Mas o melhor de tudo, é que continuam a ser a razão do meu sorriso!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Já por algumas vezes que pensei em arranjar novas palavras para te dedicar, cheguei mesmo ai ponto de as tentar criar. Mas da tentativa à conclusão que seria um esforço em vão, foi um ápice, em que entendi que apenas não se exprime no papel mas apenas se sente sem precisarmos das palavras!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Assim, tudo o que sinto, é teu! Pertence-te!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7789091025350342119?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7789091025350342119/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7789091025350342119&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7789091025350342119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7789091025350342119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/01/fazes-me-falta.html' title='Fazes-me Falta!'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R6ABJMWwRoI/AAAAAAAAAH0/mmuLKGoneQk/s72-c/77V1Cr960315-03.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5556106082286029663</id><published>2008-01-26T13:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:37.114Z</updated><title type='text'>Reencontro</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R5s7msWwRnI/AAAAAAAAAHs/sdkPO2ZczSI/s1600-h/p.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159783334010701426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R5s7msWwRnI/AAAAAAAAAHs/sdkPO2ZczSI/s320/p.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Numa vida em que a esperança se desvanecia com o passar dar horas, em que a vontade parecia ter-se apagado, tu apareceste novamente!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desde o primeiro dia, em que te senti... Senti-te diferente de todos os outros. Parecia que havia algo que me puxava para ti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Agora, sei o que era!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Agora sei o que é, e o que será para sempre, apenas porque o sinto! Apenas porque me basta olhar para ti e simplesmente sentir-te...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5556106082286029663?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5556106082286029663/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5556106082286029663&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5556106082286029663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5556106082286029663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/01/reencontro.html' title='Reencontro'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R5s7msWwRnI/AAAAAAAAAHs/sdkPO2ZczSI/s72-c/p.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4999628183142120074</id><published>2008-01-21T03:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-21T03:03:57.598Z</updated><title type='text'>CITY OF ANGELS - IRIS - GOO GOO DOLLS</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EXEfg4-9BnY&amp;amp;rel=" width="425" height="355" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Porque existem coisas que simplesmente se sentem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4999628183142120074?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4999628183142120074/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4999628183142120074&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4999628183142120074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4999628183142120074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/01/city-of-angels-iris-goo-goo-dolls.html' title='CITY OF ANGELS - IRIS - GOO GOO DOLLS'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-3042371257022574217</id><published>2008-01-19T14:15:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:37.409Z</updated><title type='text'>Hoje...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R5IGHclWuGI/AAAAAAAAAHk/C0rSaNmlo7w/s1600-h/vazio2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157191248294361186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R5IGHclWuGI/AAAAAAAAAHk/C0rSaNmlo7w/s320/vazio2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje sinto-me triste...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mal acordei, em vez de iniciar o dia com o sorriso habitual, senti-me triste. Um vazio dentro de mim. Como se me faltasse alguma coisa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-3042371257022574217?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/3042371257022574217/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=3042371257022574217&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3042371257022574217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3042371257022574217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/01/hoje.html' title='Hoje...'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R5IGHclWuGI/AAAAAAAAAHk/C0rSaNmlo7w/s72-c/vazio2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-1929269563099323539</id><published>2008-01-19T06:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:37.628Z</updated><title type='text'>Obrigado</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R5GYOslWuFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/QKdzqn9twwE/s1600-h/ceu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157070426569357394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R5GYOslWuFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/QKdzqn9twwE/s320/ceu.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ultimamente ganhei o hábito de todos os dias, à noite, antes de adormecer, agradecer por tudo o que vivi, por tudo o que passei, pelo exacto momento em que estou e por todos os dias que virão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não o faço apenas porque li &lt;em&gt;O Segredo&lt;/em&gt;, mas sim porque sinto que o devo fazer. Não só pelas coisas boas que me acontecem nesta vida, mas também e principalmente pelas coisas más. Pois são essas que me fazem crescer, que fizeram de mim a pessoa que sou hoje.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Assim, muito obrigado a todos os que visitam os meu blog, muito obrigado a todos os que já passaram na minha vida, aos que permanecem e áqueles que ainda irei conhecer e com quem me cruzar! Mas principalmente, muito obrigado a ti! Pelo brilho dos teus olhos, pelo teu sorriso, e por tudo aquilo que já me proporcionaste! Vais ter sempre um lugar muito especial no coração da minha alma e um sorriso aberto, pronto para te receber a qualquer instante em qualquer momento, em qualquer lugar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-1929269563099323539?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/1929269563099323539/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=1929269563099323539&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1929269563099323539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1929269563099323539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/01/obrigado.html' title='Obrigado'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R5GYOslWuFI/AAAAAAAAAHc/QKdzqn9twwE/s72-c/ceu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-6763758455889208514</id><published>2008-01-12T04:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:38.204Z</updated><title type='text'>Declaração de Guerra</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R4hGsclWuEI/AAAAAAAAAHU/T0J1sk_PvfA/s1600-h/drawer.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154447502926592066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R4hGsclWuEI/AAAAAAAAAHU/T0J1sk_PvfA/s320/drawer.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje dei como conselho o seguinte: "Quando pensares que o mundo inteiro está contra ti, declara guerra! Mas declara guerra contra ti mesmo..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mais cedo ou mais tarde, tudo aquilo que fica por resolver acaba por nos vir parar novamente às mãos. Aí, lá vamos nós ter que lidar novamente com um turbilhão de variáveis tão nossas conhecidas que no passado decidimos arrumar numa gavetinha. Foi o que me aconteceu. E em vez de continuar a sentir pena de mim mesmo, e a culpar todos os outros à minha volta de tudo de mau que me acontecia, e continuar a forçar a gaveta para a fechar, optei por uma nova estratégia: abri a gaveta, mexi e remexi em tudo o que lá estava dentro e tornei-me um alvo de mim mesmo! Não vou ter a audácia de dizer que resolvi tudo, porque na realidade tenho consciência que não o fiz, até porque a dita gaveta pertence a uma daquelas comódas que têm um monte delas mas seleccionei o que era importante para o momento de ser resolvido. Umas coisas, resolvi. Outras deitei no lixo, pois já não interessavam. Algumas coloquei-as na gaveta do passado e por fim, aquilo que restou foi uma enorme sensação de alivio, de liberdade como já não sentia à alguns anos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Agora, dou por mim a sorrir porque sim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-6763758455889208514?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/6763758455889208514/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=6763758455889208514&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6763758455889208514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6763758455889208514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2008/01/fonte-google-hoje-dei-como-conselho-o.html' title='Declaração de Guerra'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R4hGsclWuEI/AAAAAAAAAHU/T0J1sk_PvfA/s72-c/drawer.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-1387748956916912362</id><published>2007-12-31T00:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:38.425Z</updated><title type='text'>Feliz 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R3g1XslWuDI/AAAAAAAAAHM/xSMZNHamG94/s1600-h/070101_ano-novo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149924855119263794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R3g1XslWuDI/AAAAAAAAAHM/xSMZNHamG94/s320/070101_ano-novo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É um facto que não dou muita importância à passagem de ano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na minha opinião, deveríamos festejar a passagem do mês, a passagem da semana, e mais ainda a passagem do dia! Porque esta vida não é feita apenas de anos, mas sim de meses, de semanas, de dias, de horas, de minutos, de segundos, etc etc etc e o que recordamos no fim de tudo são momentos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No entanto, desejo um feliz 2008 para todos! com 366 celebrações... no mínimo... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-1387748956916912362?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/1387748956916912362/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=1387748956916912362&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1387748956916912362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1387748956916912362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/12/feliz-2008.html' title='Feliz 2008'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R3g1XslWuDI/AAAAAAAAAHM/xSMZNHamG94/s72-c/070101_ano-novo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7833534525223587243</id><published>2007-12-27T01:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-27T01:21:07.931Z</updated><title type='text'>Bebel Gilberto - Momento</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rmifP3cqljw&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rmifP3cqljw&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7833534525223587243?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7833534525223587243/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7833534525223587243&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7833534525223587243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7833534525223587243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/12/bebel-gilberto-momento.html' title='Bebel Gilberto - Momento'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-2589484807497546863</id><published>2007-12-20T03:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:38.618Z</updated><title type='text'>Natal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R2nmdclWuCI/AAAAAAAAAHE/TMBCrkOgfcw/s1600-h/j0409249.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145897442810968098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R2nmdclWuCI/AAAAAAAAAHE/TMBCrkOgfcw/s320/j0409249.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O Natal é a minha segunda altura do ano preferida!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Apesar de tudo o que dizem sobre o consumismo, adoro toda a azáfama das compras, dos presentes, da preparação da ceia de Natal, etc etc etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Este ano, o meu espirito natalicio andava um bocadinho para o apagado, mas eis que lá chegou e me atingiu em cheio!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desejo um Santo Natal para todos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-2589484807497546863?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/2589484807497546863/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=2589484807497546863&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2589484807497546863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2589484807497546863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/12/natal.html' title='Natal'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R2nmdclWuCI/AAAAAAAAAHE/TMBCrkOgfcw/s72-c/j0409249.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-317166748839221710</id><published>2007-12-09T06:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:38.890Z</updated><title type='text'>...ossos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R1uGVcLRfqI/AAAAAAAAAG8/j7aGY6slols/s1600-h/DSC06667.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141851102472404642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R1uGVcLRfqI/AAAAAAAAAG8/j7aGY6slols/s320/DSC06667.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: mr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-317166748839221710?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/317166748839221710/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=317166748839221710&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/317166748839221710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/317166748839221710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/12/ossos.html' title='...ossos...'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R1uGVcLRfqI/AAAAAAAAAG8/j7aGY6slols/s72-c/DSC06667.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-8509906258268750187</id><published>2007-12-04T00:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:39.144Z</updated><title type='text'>Dias de Chuva</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R1SpTbUxXxI/AAAAAAAAAG0/eLB6pJ4fG3w/s1600-R/CharlieBrownlookingupatrainJPG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139919225954066194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R1SpTbUxXxI/AAAAAAAAAG0/cOPxxIis6cA/s320/CharlieBrownlookingupatrainJPG.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se por um lado uma chuvada completamente imprevista consegue como que nos limpar a alma de grande parte das nossas preocupações, este tempo que ora chove, ora não chove, esta incerteza meteorológica que nos faz pensar várias vezes se saimos de casa com ou sem guarda chuva, deprime-me! Para além de me deprimir, irrita-me! Fico de tal forma num estado, que passa do triste ao furioso num abrir e fechar de olhos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ora se é suposto chover, porque não chove? Porque temos de andar submetidos às indecisões das nuvens e assim, rendidos às intempéries da estação, que nos deixa tao ansiosos e melancólicos como a própria cor do céu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Acho que era bastante mais agradável, objectivo, com sentido e inclusivé mais saudável, se fossemos todos como o Charlie Brown, e cada vez que estivéssemos tristes, que nos apetecesse ficar, aparecia uma nuvenzinha que nos seguia para todo o lado, e chovia só para nós!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-8509906258268750187?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/8509906258268750187/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=8509906258268750187&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8509906258268750187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8509906258268750187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/12/fonte-google-se-por-um-lado-uma-chuvada.html' title='Dias de Chuva'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R1SpTbUxXxI/AAAAAAAAAG0/cOPxxIis6cA/s72-c/CharlieBrownlookingupatrainJPG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-3942080605609256739</id><published>2007-11-20T02:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:39.442Z</updated><title type='text'>Escrever</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R0JHpz9iuDI/AAAAAAAAAGs/2uahY855aGc/s1600-h/write.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134745308804331570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R0JHpz9iuDI/AAAAAAAAAGs/2uahY855aGc/s320/write.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje perguntaram-me porque estou à algum tempo sem escrever nada. Ao que respondi: "Outro dia, ouvi ou li - jão não me recordo - que para escrevermos alguma coisa com algum significado, temos que estar tristes. Como ultimamente ando super feliz, não me dá para escrever!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Depois disto fiquei a pensar e na realidade, querer escrever, até quero. Vontade até sinto. A questão é que neste momento sinto que verbalizo melhor o que se passa dentro de mim, do que através da escrita. Não sou detentor da capacidade de escrever um sorriso, um olhar, um gesto, e com isso tocar nos sentidos de outrém da mesmo forma que o faço fisicamente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Para além de que, existem coisas que quando finalmente sairem, serão como um turbilhão de frases articulas sem sentido. Palavras soltas acompanhadas de gestos. Direccionados a alguém em específico. Talvez esse alguém não seja mais do que o reflexo do que fui, do que já não sou e daquilo pelo que continuarei a lutar para que nunca mais voltar a ser. Mas lá dá-de chegar o momento, e enquanto ele chega e não chega... Vou sorrindo, na certeza que neste momento sou o que sou, condicionado pelo meu passado e que o meu amanhã será muito mais aprazível, se hoje sorrir!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-3942080605609256739?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/3942080605609256739/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=3942080605609256739&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3942080605609256739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3942080605609256739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/11/fonte-google-hoje-perguntaram-me-porque.html' title='Escrever'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/R0JHpz9iuDI/AAAAAAAAAGs/2uahY855aGc/s72-c/write.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7754642542693556694</id><published>2007-11-13T01:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:39.666Z</updated><title type='text'>Desafio!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rzj_EvE0qSI/AAAAAAAAAGk/D8peIvHItyI/s1600-h/book.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132132232209934626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rzj_EvE0qSI/AAAAAAAAAGk/D8peIvHItyI/s320/book.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Em reposta ao "desafio" proposto por um &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://unresignedspot.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"&gt;blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; que costumo "visitar", aqui fica o meu resultado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"&gt;"Revolução? Mudança? O que eu quero deveras, com toda a intimidade da minha alma, é que cessem as nuvens átonas que ensaboam cinzentamente o céu; o que eu quero é ver o azul comçar a surgir de entre elas, verdade certa e clara porque nada é nem quer."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;in &lt;em&gt;Livro do Desassossego&lt;/em&gt; de Fernando Pessoa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Verdade ou não, isso cabe a cada um de nós!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Experimentem! Regras:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. Pegue no livro mais próximo, com mais de 161 páginas – implica aleatoriedade, não tente escolher o livro;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. Abra o livro na página 161;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3. Na referida página procurar a 5.ª frase completa;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;4. Transcreva na íntegra para o seu blogue (ou para este) a frase encontrada;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5. Aumente, de forma exponencial, a improdutividade, fazendo passar o desafio a mais cinco bloggers à escolha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7754642542693556694?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7754642542693556694/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7754642542693556694&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7754642542693556694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7754642542693556694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/11/desafio.html' title='Desafio!'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rzj_EvE0qSI/AAAAAAAAAGk/D8peIvHItyI/s72-c/book.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5402995089685174439</id><published>2007-11-09T03:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-09T03:30:44.685Z</updated><title type='text'>Mariza - Chuva</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OzrUs08-SWs&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OzrUs08-SWs&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5402995089685174439?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5402995089685174439/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5402995089685174439&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5402995089685174439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5402995089685174439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/11/mariza-chuva.html' title='Mariza - Chuva'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5611870938935328632</id><published>2007-11-06T01:09:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-11-06T01:09:58.472Z</updated><title type='text'>Diana Krall - The Look of Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QNp79hF-xZw&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QNp79hF-xZw&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5611870938935328632?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5611870938935328632/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5611870938935328632&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5611870938935328632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5611870938935328632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/11/diana-krall-look-of-love.html' title='Diana Krall - The Look of Love'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-3761468318599473481</id><published>2007-11-05T15:15:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:40.024Z</updated><title type='text'>Fim de Semana</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ry80TmZ_1xI/AAAAAAAAAGc/TklwieJolqc/s1600-h/DSC06917.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129376011930031890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ry80TmZ_1xI/AAAAAAAAAGc/TklwieJolqc/s320/DSC06917.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: mr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nada como um fds alargado, fora do nosso ambiente, para repormos os níveis de alguns sentimentos que estavam em baixo, e baixar alguns que estavam em alta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lá fui eu para os lados de Évora, e acreditem quando digo que valeu bem a pena!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-3761468318599473481?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/3761468318599473481/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=3761468318599473481&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3761468318599473481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3761468318599473481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/11/fim-de-semana.html' title='Fim de Semana'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ry80TmZ_1xI/AAAAAAAAAGc/TklwieJolqc/s72-c/DSC06917.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-8032719953597695540</id><published>2007-11-05T01:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:40.266Z</updated><title type='text'>Sol</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ry5vpWZ_1wI/AAAAAAAAAGU/1uC-DDeUG2w/s1600-h/soleil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129159781801514754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ry5vpWZ_1wI/AAAAAAAAAGU/1uC-DDeUG2w/s320/soleil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E quando já me tinha mentalizado de que jamais iría voltar a ver a luz do Sol, a olho nú, eis que de repente alguém simplesmente me pede para que tire os óculos esuros e me atreva a olhar novamente, de frente, para o Sol!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Respirei fundo, tirei lentamente essa protecção e permiti, mais uma vez, a mim mesmo, que o dia voltasse a nascer com um céu azul e limpo, um Sol brilhante e com os olhos abertos de frente para o Sol!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-8032719953597695540?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/8032719953597695540/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=8032719953597695540&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8032719953597695540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8032719953597695540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/11/fonte-google-e-quando-j-me-tinha.html' title='Sol'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ry5vpWZ_1wI/AAAAAAAAAGU/1uC-DDeUG2w/s72-c/soleil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4304832555444401952</id><published>2007-10-31T02:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:40.444Z</updated><title type='text'>Carro, Rádio, Música, ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RyfjLWZ_1vI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Tq3vOQ-SbTc/s1600-h/27960856_scaled_810x291.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127316484917286642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RyfjLWZ_1vI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Tq3vOQ-SbTc/s320/27960856_scaled_810x291.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Adoro ouvir música enquanto conduzo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uma das coisas que não dispenso enquanto conduzo, é música. Gosto de conduzir a ouvir rádio, especialmente. Para além de me distrair, há certos momentos em que somos surpreendidos e ouvimos uma determinada música que nos faz lembrar uma altura das nossas vidas, um momento, uma pessoa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gosto daquela sensação de frio no estômago, seguida de um sorriso enorme assim que ouvimos os primeiros acordes a tocar no rádio. Parece que por momentos, aquela música é tocada apenas para nós, e nos transporta para um sitio bem longe daquele onde estamos no presente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje, á semelhança de muitos outros dias, aconteceu-me isso...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E sorri... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4304832555444401952?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4304832555444401952/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4304832555444401952&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4304832555444401952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4304832555444401952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/10/carro-rdio-msica.html' title='Carro, Rádio, Música, ...'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RyfjLWZ_1vI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Tq3vOQ-SbTc/s72-c/27960856_scaled_810x291.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-9119842938410204246</id><published>2007-10-30T02:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:40.598Z</updated><title type='text'>Gripe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RyaTLWZ_1uI/AAAAAAAAAGE/JTD_ShXpfGQ/s1600-h/grippe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126947049010353890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RyaTLWZ_1uI/AAAAAAAAAGE/JTD_ShXpfGQ/s320/grippe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Estou com gripe!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normalmente até costumo gostar de ficar engripado! Fico em casa, de cama, com a mamã a dar-me mimos constantes, a levar-me o pequeno-almoço á cama, ponho os filmes e os programas de TV em dia, mas desta vez, estou irritado por estar doente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tenho um monte de coisas para fazer, e não me posso dar ao luxo de ficar de cama! Assim, tomei a decisão de enfrentar a gripe, em vez de me resignar á minha condição de engripado!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desta forma, levantei-me com uma dor de cabeça gigante, tomei um duche, e enfiei logo 2 comprimidos pelas guelas abaixo. Aqui dei conta que tinha um ouvido tapado quando se puseram a falar comigo e eu parecia que ouvia as pessoas por detrás de um zumbido que me fazia chorar, caso me tentasse esforçar por ouvir melhor. Depois vieram os espirros, a tosse, a necessidade de me assoar, etc etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Decidi ir trabalhar na mesma, e descobri que enquanto todos andavam com roupa de verão, eu tinha uma camisola vestida por cima de uma t-shirt, mais um casaco de inverno e ainda assim, conseguia ter frio quando devia ter calor, e ter calor quando devia ter frio. Se não bastasse tudo isto, ainda fui alvo de gozo pela minha voz anasalada (coisa que costumam dizer que é normal, mas que hoje estava um bocadinho pior!) e pelo facto de me fazer sempre acompanhar de um lenço de papel e de uma garrafa de água!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas vendo as coisas pelo positivo, isto não vai durar para sempre, amanhã vou estar bem melhor, com toda a certeza, e agora bem que me vou deitar depois de ter tomado mais uma dose dupla da receita da Dra!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-9119842938410204246?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/9119842938410204246/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=9119842938410204246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/9119842938410204246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/9119842938410204246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/10/fonte-google-estou-com-gripe.html' title='Gripe'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RyaTLWZ_1uI/AAAAAAAAAGE/JTD_ShXpfGQ/s72-c/grippe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-1296229590341391324</id><published>2007-10-14T06:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T06:40:58.063+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Barry White - My first, My Last, My Everything</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aS2Fve72AZg"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aS2Fve72AZg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-1296229590341391324?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/1296229590341391324/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=1296229590341391324&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1296229590341391324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1296229590341391324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/10/barry-white-barry-white-my-first-my.html' title='Barry White - My first, My Last, My Everything'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-6928294346714679723</id><published>2007-10-12T01:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:40.806Z</updated><title type='text'>Quem nunca o sentiu?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rw7Bs0KmspI/AAAAAAAAAF8/TIoIuIDORWY/s1600-h/The%20Stones.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120242802028360338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rw7Bs0KmspI/AAAAAAAAAF8/TIoIuIDORWY/s320/The%2520Stones.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Há no Homem o dom preverso da banalização.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Estamos condenados a pensar com palavras, a sentir em palavras, se queremos pelo menos que os outros sintam connosco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas as palavras são pedras."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Vergílio Ferreira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aparição&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-6928294346714679723?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/6928294346714679723/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=6928294346714679723&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6928294346714679723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6928294346714679723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/10/quem-nunca-o-sentiu.html' title='Quem nunca o sentiu?'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rw7Bs0KmspI/AAAAAAAAAF8/TIoIuIDORWY/s72-c/The%2520Stones.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-2173324196503201939</id><published>2007-10-10T12:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:41.149Z</updated><title type='text'>Inútil</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rwy9FUKmsoI/AAAAAAAAAF0/OJHKEvXuDHo/s1600-h/Male_lion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119674775423595138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rwy9FUKmsoI/AAAAAAAAAF0/OJHKEvXuDHo/s320/Male_lion.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje, e até ao momento, pois espero que passe, estou a sentir-me um perfeito inútil!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Detesto quando me levanto cedo, e depois não tenho nada para fazer! Isto irrita-me solenemente!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Já tentei fazer várias coisa, como por exemplo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Arrumar o Escritório&lt;/strong&gt; - Se o arrumo, depois quando precisar de saber onde estão as coisas, não sei! Para além de que não estou com pachorra nenhuma para virar uma fada do lar e deixar isto tudo num brinco!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ler&lt;/strong&gt; - Já me sentei por duas vezes no sofá da sala e abri um livro que comprei e que estou curioso de ler! Mas é o que dá uma pessoa ter a mania de comprar livros filosóficos, ou coisa que o valha, depois nestas alturas, não há paciência para todas aquelas dissertações sobre qualquer tema que seja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ver TV&lt;/strong&gt; - Já experimentaram ligar a TV nos canais portugueses de manhã? experimentem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sair de Casa&lt;/strong&gt; - Ora aqui temos várias opções do que se posso fazer: Posso apenas sair para ir beber café. Acontece que já bebi café hoje, e o meu estômago já não aguenta mais café antes do almoço; Posso sair e enfiar-me num centro comercial - Bom! esta opção, tão apreciada por tantas familias durante o FDS, é muito gira, de facto - até porque eu não gosto nada de andar ás compras....... Não......... Mas nem para ir "passar cartão" estou com espirito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vaguear na Net&lt;/strong&gt; - Nem comento!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tudo o resto que não esteja contemplado nas opções acima, nem me dou ao trabalho sequer de colocar a hipótese de o fazer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Assim, decidi ocupar uns minutinhos e escrever este post! resta-me agora vaguear por casa, à espera que chegue a hora da minha aula de natação :) Essa sim, acho que vai ser a primeiríssima coisa útil que vou fazer hoje!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-2173324196503201939?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/2173324196503201939/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=2173324196503201939&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2173324196503201939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2173324196503201939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/10/intil.html' title='Inútil'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rwy9FUKmsoI/AAAAAAAAAF0/OJHKEvXuDHo/s72-c/Male_lion.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7961700908878061547</id><published>2007-10-05T05:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:41.321Z</updated><title type='text'>Incompetência?!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RwXBd0KmsnI/AAAAAAAAAFs/I_JMA3Yb2z8/s1600-h/homer2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117709269539926642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RwXBd0KmsnI/AAAAAAAAAFs/I_JMA3Yb2z8/s320/homer2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há uma coisa que no meu trabalho me incomoda profundamente, ao ponto de me deixar irritado! Ok! Para quem me conhece e trabalha comigo, deverá neste momento estar a pensar, que são poucas as coisas que não me deixam irritado... Mas a incompetência alheia, provoca-me uma profunda irritação acompanhada de desespero, quase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;O mundo está cheio de incompetentes! Da mesma forma que está cheio de profissionais brilhantes! O que para mim pode ser encarado como incompetência, pode não o ser para outrém... da mesma forma se aplica o brilhantismo! Até aqui, eu concordo! Agora, se do meu desempenho profissional depende o trabalho de outrém, e se devido ao meu desempenho o&lt;br /&gt;trabalho desse outrém vê-se obrigado a ser revisto várias vezes, por forma a que atinja o nível esperado, e que seja funcional, então eu considero-me como um incompetente! Até porque se aquilo que faço, o faço à já algum tempo e tenho todos os conhecimentos necessários para conseguir fazê-lo no nível exigido, para além do conhecimento do impacto que o meu trabalho tem nos outros, e se ainda assim, eu não me preocupo em o fazer da melhor forma possível, então aí, eu considero-me um incompetente!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nestas alturas recordo-me sempre da minha professora de Introdução à Gestão, e de alguns pontos da matéria. Para este caso, eu recordo-me do efeito sinérgico. Para quem não sabe, o efeito sinérgico defende que 2+2&gt;4 Isto porque o resultado de um todo, é superior à soma individual de cada parte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quer-me parecer, que tudo isto se resolvia, se algumas pessoas se colocassem na pele de outras!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7961700908878061547?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7961700908878061547/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7961700908878061547&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7961700908878061547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7961700908878061547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/10/incompetncia.html' title='Incompetência?!?'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RwXBd0KmsnI/AAAAAAAAAFs/I_JMA3Yb2z8/s72-c/homer2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7030052915774006467</id><published>2007-10-04T02:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:41.506Z</updated><title type='text'>Dia de Massagem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RwRBGkKmsmI/AAAAAAAAAFk/0T2ssaKLKMM/s1600-h/spa_massage_masthead.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117286657642902114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RwRBGkKmsmI/AAAAAAAAAFk/0T2ssaKLKMM/s320/spa_massage_masthead.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há muito tempo que queira experimentar uma massagem com pedras quentes. Não sei muito bem a razão, mas acho que me atraiu o facto de existir mais qualquer coisa para além das mãos profissionais, dos óleos, etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À uns meses atrás recebi um voucher, que podia trocar por variadíssimas coisas. Optei por duas, e uma delas foi precisamente uma massagem com pedras quentes. Lá fui eu, cheio de espectativas e ansioso por aquele momento, como uma criança, a quem finalmente a levam a passear ao Jardim Zoológico.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Durante 1h lá estive eu deitadinho na marquesa. Confesso que fiquei um pouco desapontado! Como tudo na vida, quanto mais pensamos em como será, e quantos mais planos fazemos, acabamos sempre por ter aquela sensação de insatisfação. Mas no fim de contas, foi um experiência que ultrapassou o agradável. Como seria de se esperar, terminado o tempo sentia-me leve, descontraido, relaxado, como se tudo o que me apoquenta a alma, durante algum tempo não tivesse qualquer tipo de significado, pois eu sentia-me bem mais leve que todos eles juntos... Imune a qualquer tipo de catástrofe, inclusivé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Irei, com toda a certeza repetir. Não sei se dentro muito em breve, mas que irei repetir, definitivamente que sim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7030052915774006467?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7030052915774006467/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7030052915774006467&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7030052915774006467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7030052915774006467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/10/dia-de-massagem.html' title='Dia de Massagem'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RwRBGkKmsmI/AAAAAAAAAFk/0T2ssaKLKMM/s72-c/spa_massage_masthead.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-6120820368002786460</id><published>2007-09-24T02:50:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:41.655Z</updated><title type='text'>Smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RvcYQUKmslI/AAAAAAAAAFc/DgpEacGd8P0/s1600-h/smile_g.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113582570472649298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RvcYQUKmslI/AAAAAAAAAFc/DgpEacGd8P0/s320/smile_g.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ultimamente, tenho estado super bem disposto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por isso, apenas digo: SMILE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-6120820368002786460?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/6120820368002786460/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=6120820368002786460&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6120820368002786460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6120820368002786460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/smile.html' title='Smile'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RvcYQUKmslI/AAAAAAAAAFc/DgpEacGd8P0/s72-c/smile_g.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-1275454004152911623</id><published>2007-09-19T04:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:42.000Z</updated><title type='text'>Timming</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RvCYJlXT5_I/AAAAAAAAAFU/POxrk8fqFYo/s1600-h/relogios.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111752867481642994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RvCYJlXT5_I/AAAAAAAAAFU/POxrk8fqFYo/s320/relogios.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;De súbito o mundo todo à minha volta parou! Tal como num filme, tudo ficou parado como se fosse alvo de um feitoço qualquer! Apenas eu tinha ficado imune, e apenas a mim me tinha sido concedida a capacidade de me conseguir movimentar, respirar, ver, ouvir, sentir...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Olho em meu redor e penso: De que me servem todas estas capacidades, se tudo o resto que me rodeia não as tem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bebo de um trago a bebida que está a minha frente, sinto-a a descer pela garganta e vem-me à ideia que não existem dois flocos de neve iguais, que um raio não volta a cair no mesmo sitio, e arrepende-te sempre so que fizeres e nunca do que podias ter feito!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tudo voltou à normalidade de outrora! Será que voltou?!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-1275454004152911623?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/1275454004152911623/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=1275454004152911623&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1275454004152911623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1275454004152911623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/fonte-google-de-sbito-o-mundo-todo.html' title='Timming'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RvCYJlXT5_I/AAAAAAAAAFU/POxrk8fqFYo/s72-c/relogios.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7390049145714335007</id><published>2007-09-17T02:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:42.230Z</updated><title type='text'>Marginal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ru3fa71oV1I/AAAAAAAAAFM/SntmG9L8fdM/s1600-h/5.thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110986805967607634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ru3fa71oV1I/AAAAAAAAAFM/SntmG9L8fdM/s320/5.thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Depois de um óptimo jantar em Cascais, decidi rumar até casa pela Marginal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não me perguntem porquê, mas apeteceu-me. Gosto de conduzir calmamente, à noite, pela Marginal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tinha o carro com lotação esgotada, mas ainda assim, aquele momento, foi só meu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7390049145714335007?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7390049145714335007/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7390049145714335007&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7390049145714335007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7390049145714335007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/marginal.html' title='Marginal'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ru3fa71oV1I/AAAAAAAAAFM/SntmG9L8fdM/s72-c/5.thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-57258654976627821</id><published>2007-09-17T02:50:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T02:50:49.232+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are a Realist&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/areyouanoptimistorpessimistquiz/realist.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't see the glass as half empty or half full. You see what's exactly in the glass.&lt;br /&gt;You never try to make a bad situation seem better than it is...&lt;br /&gt;But you also never sabotage any good things you have going on.&lt;br /&gt;You are brutally honest in your assessments of situations - and this always seems to help you cope.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/areyouanoptimistorpessimistquiz/"&gt;Are You An Optimist or Pessimist?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-57258654976627821?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/57258654976627821/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=57258654976627821&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/57258654976627821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/57258654976627821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/quiz_571.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-9164052391057836071</id><published>2007-09-17T02:50:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T02:50:20.230+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Travel Personality Is: The Sophisticate&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatsyourtravelpersonalityquiz/travel-2.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're well educated and cultured, and the places you travel to reflect that.&lt;br /&gt;You appreciate the best art, food, architecture, and local flavor.&lt;br /&gt;A true traveler, you are destined to be multi-lingual and very worldly.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourtravelpersonalityquiz/"&gt;What's Your Travel Personality?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-9164052391057836071?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/9164052391057836071/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=9164052391057836071&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/9164052391057836071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/9164052391057836071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/quiz_2547.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-735409048656254408</id><published>2007-09-17T02:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T02:49:44.695+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Have Good Manners 84% of the Time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/howareyourmannersquiz/manners-5.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You manners are perfect. You always carry yourself with class.&lt;br /&gt;You know how to be considerate toward everyone - even if they aren't considerate to you.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howareyourmannersquiz/"&gt;How Are Your Manners?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-735409048656254408?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/735409048656254408/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=735409048656254408&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/735409048656254408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/735409048656254408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/quiz_17.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4196132573928454114</id><published>2007-09-17T02:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:42.496Z</updated><title type='text'>Gratidão</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ru3bHr1oV0I/AAAAAAAAAFE/QbgoCTgNQYI/s1600-h/myHeart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110982077208614722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ru3bHr1oV0I/AAAAAAAAAFE/QbgoCTgNQYI/s320/myHeart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há momentos na minha vida, em que páro e penso: Que fiz eu para merecer isto?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Contrariamente, ao que muito possivelmente, a grande maioria das pessoas faz a mesma questão, eu questiono-o em momentos que me sinto realmente feliz e de bem com a vida e comigo mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Este final de semana foi um exemplo diário disso. Começou na sexta-feira à noite, em que no final da noite, comecei a ver uma pessoa de uma maneira diferente da que até aqui via. Uma surpresa bastante agradável. Senti-me feliz não só por isso, mas também pela forma como confiou em mim, ao ponto de me revelar uma das decisões, que me atrevo a dizer, talvez mais dificeis na sua vida. No sábado, jantei com o MEU grupo de amigos. Faltaram alguns, mas estiveram presentes nas conversas, nos planos futuros, etc. O jantar deveu-se ao facto de um dos presentes ter ganho o direito a Dr antes do nome. Para ti, um grande abraço! Para aqueles que possam pensar o contrário, sinto um grande orgulho não só nisso, mas em ser amigo dele. A noite não ficou só por ai, e para não desviarmos do caminho do costume, uma cartada até às tantas da manhã acompanhada de grandes gargalhadas, batota que se farta e umas boas garrafinhas de águas das pedras... Domingo, mais uma vez, um jantar de amigos. Para variar, sushi! Tinha de ser!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Em todas estas 3 noites, senti-me feliz. e por isso mesmo, senti-me grato. Sinto-me feliz por ter os amigos que tenho, por poder confiar neles, por poder partilhar com eles momentos em que me sinto bem. Sinto-me grato por tudo. Mas principalmente por poder ter o prazer de partilhar a minha vida com eles todos. Mas em especial por uma pessoa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Para todos, um grande abraço e uma enorme beijoca. Para ti, que és especial, já sabes o que o futuro nos reserva... Eu sem dentadura, e tu sem arrastadeira!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4196132573928454114?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4196132573928454114/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4196132573928454114&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4196132573928454114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4196132573928454114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/gratido.html' title='Gratidão'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ru3bHr1oV0I/AAAAAAAAAFE/QbgoCTgNQYI/s72-c/myHeart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4043856354256706766</id><published>2007-09-13T16:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:42.844Z</updated><title type='text'>Decepção</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RulTFr1oVzI/AAAAAAAAAE8/un7dR0s7Zx4/s1600-h/decepÃ§Ã£o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109706609360656178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RulTFr1oVzI/AAAAAAAAAE8/un7dR0s7Zx4/s320/decep%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Porque será que as pessoas nos desiludem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À uns tempos atrás, disseram-me que mais vale não esperarmos nada de ninguém, porque assim, tudo aquilo que viesse, era sempre bom, seria sempre uma agradável surpresa. No entanto, como é que conseguimos isso quando conhecemos alguém à bastante tempo, nos damos a conhecer, e em certas alturas até acertamos nas atitudes, reacções, expressões e inclusivé respostas que darão em determinada situação? Como é que é possivel que avancemos a fasquia exponencialmente por forma a que consigamos sempre ser supreendidos pela positiva com qualquer atitude que as pessoas tenham para connosco?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dói. Dói demais, quando sem motivo aparente as pessoas simplesmente se descartam de nós como se fossêmos uma simples moeda de 1 cêntimo que anda a pesar na carteira e que se mete nas costuras. Mas que quando precisam desse 1 cêntimo para saciar qualquer necessidade, por mais básica ou supérflua que o seja, são capazes de virar a casa inteira do avesso à procura dessa moeda que outrora a julgaram incoveniente, mas que naquele preciso momento, é o bem mais precioso que possam ter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lamento! Lamento que assim seja, que existam momentos em que todos nós necessitemos de ser egoístas, e que com isso magoemos aqueles que já fizemos rir quando precisavam, que já nos olharam com ternura quando todos os outros se erraram ao julgar que seria a última coisa de que necessitávamos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4043856354256706766?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4043856354256706766/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4043856354256706766&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4043856354256706766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4043856354256706766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/decepo.html' title='Decepção'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RulTFr1oVzI/AAAAAAAAAE8/un7dR0s7Zx4/s72-c/decep%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-2236700674698062110</id><published>2007-09-13T01:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T01:06:00.077+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You are Milk Chocolate&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatkindofchocolateareyouquiz/milk-chocolate.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A total dreamer, you spend most of your time with your head in the clouds.&lt;br /&gt;You often think of the future, and you are always working toward your ideal life.&lt;br /&gt;Also nostalgic, you rarely forget a meaningful moment... even those from long ago.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatkindofchocolateareyouquiz/"&gt;What Kind of Chocolate Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-2236700674698062110?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/2236700674698062110/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=2236700674698062110&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2236700674698062110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2236700674698062110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/quiz_3189.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-85278751152713955</id><published>2007-09-13T01:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T01:03:04.291+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are Chardonnay&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatkindofwineareyouquiz/chardonnay.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fresh, spirited, and classic - you have many facets to your personality.&lt;br /&gt;You can be sweet and light. Or deep and complex.&lt;br /&gt;You have a little bit of something to offer everyone... no wonder you're so popular.&lt;br /&gt;Approachable and never smug, you are easy to get to know (and love!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep down you are: Dependable and modest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your partying style: Understated and polite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your company is enjoyed best with: Cold or wild meat &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatkindofwineareyouquiz/"&gt;What Kind of Wine Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-85278751152713955?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/85278751152713955/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=85278751152713955&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/85278751152713955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/85278751152713955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/quiz_1689.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7580961505467341252</id><published>2007-09-13T00:59:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T00:59:37.040+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are 87% Real&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/howrealareyouquiz/real-5.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's hardly a person on this earth more real than you are.&lt;br /&gt;You have no problem showing people who you are, flaws and all.&lt;br /&gt;For you, there couldn't be any other way. Because it's way too stressful to live an inauthentic life.&lt;br /&gt;You're very comfortable with yourself. And because of this, you're able to live an exciting, interesting, and challenging life.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howrealareyouquiz/"&gt;How Real Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7580961505467341252?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7580961505467341252/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7580961505467341252&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7580961505467341252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7580961505467341252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/quiz_13.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-230543403907853330</id><published>2007-09-12T17:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:43.098Z</updated><title type='text'>Despertar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RugPbL1oVyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6GN0UBztObA/s1600-h/despertar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109350736960444194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RugPbL1oVyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6GN0UBztObA/s320/despertar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E se um dia, num belo dia, num determinado momento de um certo dia, nos apercebemos do verdadeiro fundamento de um sentimento, que nos conduz a certezas que durante anos as tivemos como garantidas e num simples milésimo de segundo tudo de repente se tornou claro! Tudo começou finalmente a fazer sentido, e senti uma paz interior, como já não sentia à uns meses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fantástico como existem determinados assuntos na nossa vida em que parece que fazemos sempre as escolhas menos acertadas, no entanto, mais tarde apercebemo-nos que foram as mais correctas. Acredito que temos sempre possibilidade de escolha. Conseguimos sempre controlar o que virá a ser o nosso futuro, desde que areditemos nisso e que apanhemos o autocarro correcto por forma a que tenhamos uma visão mais clara das coisas muito mais cedo. Isto acaba por nos poupar a situações que preferimos não viver, até um determinado tempo, porque mais cedo ou mais tarde, vamos sempre acabar por ter de viver , por ter de enfrentar, por ter de crescer, por ter de aprender!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Resta-nos saber se essa aprendizagem irá ter um efeito condutor para a felicidade! O que eu acredito que sim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-230543403907853330?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/230543403907853330/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=230543403907853330&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/230543403907853330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/230543403907853330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/despertar.html' title='Despertar'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RugPbL1oVyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6GN0UBztObA/s72-c/despertar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-344817412788368560</id><published>2007-09-12T13:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:43.351Z</updated><title type='text'>Natação</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RufXeL1oVxI/AAAAAAAAAEs/16720abNIrQ/s1600-h/swim.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109289215848896274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RufXeL1oVxI/AAAAAAAAAEs/16720abNIrQ/s320/swim.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aos 28 anos, deu-me para ir aprender a nadar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando era miúdo, lembro-me do meu pai me tentar ensinar. Mas já nessa altura o mau feitio era uma constante na minha pessoa, e todas as suas tentativas foram infrutíferas, pois eu achava muito mais giro andar a socializar com os outros miúdos da praia do que andar a ser puxado pelo queixo e a esbracejar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descobri agora então, que adoro nadar! Não sei muito bem ainda se o que faço é nadar, tendo em conta que as minhas aulas são num tanque (piscina onde tenho sempre pé) e de quando em vez lá me embrulho no meio das braçadas e da respiração e brindo o meu fantástico estômago com um bocadinho de cloro dissolvido em água!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas dizia eu, que descobri as maravilhas de nadar, e deixem-me que vos diga, que para além de ter chegado à conclusão de que eu também tenho um six pack abdominal, a natação relaxa-me, e durante 45 minutos, 3 vezes por semana, parece que liberto todas as energias negativas que acumulo no espaço de tempo em que não nado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-344817412788368560?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/344817412788368560/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=344817412788368560&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/344817412788368560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/344817412788368560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/natao.html' title='Natação'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RufXeL1oVxI/AAAAAAAAAEs/16720abNIrQ/s72-c/swim.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-2965398660499391993</id><published>2007-09-11T11:16:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T11:16:33.379+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Belong in Milan&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whateuropeancitydoyoubelonginquiz/milan.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stylish and sophisticated, you want to enjoy a truly European life - away from tourists!&lt;br /&gt;Milan fits you perfectly. Great shopping, high quality food, lots of culture... with very little hype.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whateuropeancitydoyoubelonginquiz/"&gt;What European City Do You Belong In?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-2965398660499391993?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/2965398660499391993/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=2965398660499391993&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2965398660499391993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2965398660499391993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/quiz_11.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4005341224987465694</id><published>2007-09-11T01:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T01:32:26.330+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are a Brownie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatdessertareyoumostlikequiz/brownies.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decadent and intense, you aren't for the weakhearted.&lt;br /&gt;Those who can deal with your strong flavor find out how sweet you really are.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatdessertareyoumostlikequiz/"&gt;What Dessert Are You Most Like?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4005341224987465694?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4005341224987465694/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4005341224987465694&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4005341224987465694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4005341224987465694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/quiz.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-6931366952949161278</id><published>2007-09-11T01:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:43.588Z</updated><title type='text'>Energia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RuXgKOs0h9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/hpxXVQFnJpE/s1600-h/engrenagem.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108735818671097810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RuXgKOs0h9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/hpxXVQFnJpE/s320/engrenagem.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há momentos em que nos sentimos de tal forma, que todos os restantes problemas que nos possam fazer dar voltas e voltas na cama parecem perfeitamente insignificantes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sente-se uma força interior, uma energia tal que nos enche o espirito, de tal forma que chega a ultrapassar as barreiras deste invólucro fisico a quem chamamos de corpo, e que toca no mais fundo do ser de outrém, na sua génese, e que apenas sorri simplesmente porque nos sente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aquele Abraço amigo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-6931366952949161278?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/6931366952949161278/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=6931366952949161278&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6931366952949161278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6931366952949161278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/energia.html' title='Energia'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RuXgKOs0h9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/hpxXVQFnJpE/s72-c/engrenagem.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-2442621882834024814</id><published>2007-09-10T02:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T02:23:24.158+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You are 100% Leo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/howleoareyouquiz/leo.gif" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howleoareyouquiz/"&gt;How Leo Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-2442621882834024814?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/2442621882834024814/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=2442621882834024814&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2442621882834024814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2442621882834024814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/quiz-how-leo-are-you.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5079126929052734844</id><published>2007-09-10T01:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:44.062Z</updated><title type='text'>Formação</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RuSXs-s0h7I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Bl2vnGtDgk0/s1600-h/formaÃ§Ã£o.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108374676346013618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RuSXs-s0h7I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Bl2vnGtDgk0/s320/forma%C3%A7%C3%A3o.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gosto de dar formação! Gosto de ensinar, de passar os meus conhecimentos sobre determinado tema a outras pessoas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há duas coisas que me atraem em dar formação. A primeira é o poder "brincar" com a capacidade de raciocínio dos outros. De os levar a uma determinada conclusão partindo de algumas permissas, que umas vezes são verdadeiras, outras não. Acho piada ao facto de conseguir baralhar por completo as ideias das pessoas... hi hi A segunda coisa é o retorno de todo o trabalho, que aliás suponho que seja um denominador comum a todos os que gostam de dar formação, é o poder constactar que as pessoas de facto utilizam os conhecimentos que lhes passamos, que aquele tempo em que estive a debitar toneladas de informação, não foi em vão. E sinto um orgulho imenso quando me apercebo disso. Orgulho nos meus formandos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A todos aqueles a quem já dei formação, aqui fica a minha homenagem! Um grande abraço para todos vós.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5079126929052734844?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5079126929052734844/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5079126929052734844&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5079126929052734844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5079126929052734844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/09/formao.html' title='Formação'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RuSXs-s0h7I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Bl2vnGtDgk0/s72-c/forma%C3%A7%C3%A3o.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5004603536645499049</id><published>2007-08-26T03:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:44.519Z</updated><title type='text'>Chuva</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RtDkHus0h6I/AAAAAAAAAEI/mo2m9hvyOqA/s1600-h/chuva.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102829199257012130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RtDkHus0h6I/AAAAAAAAAEI/mo2m9hvyOqA/s320/chuva.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E se de repente, ao olhar para a janela e ver que está a chover, nos dá uma vontade enorme de sair e andar á chuva?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Encaminhando-me para a porta da rua, senti o meu coração a bater forte, e uma ânsia de chegar o mais rápido possivel a esse tão inesperado mas apetecível reencontro. Lá chegado, simplesmente me entreguei de braços abertos e de cara voltada para o céu, a um elemento tão natural como o meu corpo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No fim, quando tudo acalmou, deixei-me ficar sentado a contemplar tudo o que me rodeava e senti uma ingénua alegria dentro de mim mesmo; Uma vontade de sorrir sem motivo aparente e o desejo de que voltasse a chover...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5004603536645499049?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5004603536645499049/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5004603536645499049&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5004603536645499049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5004603536645499049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/08/chuva.html' title='Chuva'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RtDkHus0h6I/AAAAAAAAAEI/mo2m9hvyOqA/s72-c/chuva.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-6471603652794945128</id><published>2007-08-24T15:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:44.749Z</updated><title type='text'>Mudança</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rs7tpus0h5I/AAAAAAAAAEA/3hsDzPFzJ5A/s1600-h/pointofview.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102276729023793042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rs7tpus0h5I/AAAAAAAAAEA/3hsDzPFzJ5A/s320/pointofview.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E como a mudança é daquelas coisas das quais somos indissociáveis, decidi mudar o layout do blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por vezes, basta-nos não mudar a nossa posição, mas apenas inclinar um pouco a cabeça para termos uma visão ligeiramente diferente sobre determinado assunto, que nos faz questionar o que até aqui sempre consideramos como uma verdade absoluta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Já agora, qual a vossa opinião?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-6471603652794945128?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/6471603652794945128/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=6471603652794945128&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6471603652794945128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6471603652794945128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/08/mudana.html' title='Mudança'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rs7tpus0h5I/AAAAAAAAAEA/3hsDzPFzJ5A/s72-c/pointofview.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4971145544516923041</id><published>2007-08-24T15:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:45.340Z</updated><title type='text'>Olhar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rs7oles0h4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/88XGOxSxwLk/s1600-h/olhar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102271158451210114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rs7oles0h4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/88XGOxSxwLk/s320/olhar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;À uns dias disseram-me uma coisa que me intrigou bastante: "&lt;em&gt;Tu consegues mentir com o olhar!&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Na altura dei uma gargalhada enorme e senti que mais uma pessoa que eu considero como uma grande amiga, se revelou como tal. Fantástico como uma pessoa que parece alheia a tudo aquilo que se passa à sua volta, e que prefere o anonimato ao protagonismo, se consegue aperceber dos momentos exactos em que o faço! Para ti, uma grande beijoca! E sim, és uma querida! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pensando um bocadinho sobre o assunto, conseguirei mesmo? será que aquilo a que chamam o espelho da alma, no meu caso é de tal forma passível de controlo, que consigo controlar as suas imagens refletidas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Para que me conhece pessoalmente, qual a vossa opinião?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4971145544516923041?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4971145544516923041/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4971145544516923041&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4971145544516923041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4971145544516923041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/08/olhar.html' title='Olhar'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rs7oles0h4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/88XGOxSxwLk/s72-c/olhar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5556134192081566107</id><published>2007-08-24T04:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:46.008Z</updated><title type='text'>Fumar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rs5Ttes0h3I/AAAAAAAAADw/jGKJ91d4Iug/s1600-h/james-bond.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102107468657624946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rs5Ttes0h3I/AAAAAAAAADw/jGKJ91d4Iug/s320/james-bond.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dizem que fumar mata, que provoca doenças mortais, que prejudica gravemente a minha saúde e a dos outros que me rodeiam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sobre este assunto, gostaria de dizer 2 coisas:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1ª coisa: Fumo porque gosto de o fazer, tenho consciência que faz mal, mas já que o faço, faço-o como deve ser, e recuso-me a fumar coisas light ou mais fracas com o simples intuito de prejudicar menos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2ª coisa: Viver também mata!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5556134192081566107?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5556134192081566107/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5556134192081566107&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5556134192081566107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5556134192081566107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/08/fumar.html' title='Fumar'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rs5Ttes0h3I/AAAAAAAAADw/jGKJ91d4Iug/s72-c/james-bond.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5549467142996158149</id><published>2007-08-07T14:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:46.339Z</updated><title type='text'>Numerologia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tendo em conta que várias pessoas me perguntaram o que significava um ano 1, e um ano 9, deixo-vos umas partes de um livro de que já aqui fiz referência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095956065009037954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rrh5CqXccoI/AAAAAAAAADo/LBXyZggdMjc/s320/colection_child368.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Antes de dar o significado de um ano 9 e de um ano 1, posso dizer que os nossos anos pessoais têm inicio no mês do nosso aniversário.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um ano pessoal 9:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Finalização de projectos, situações que terminam, assuntos que se encerram, mudanças que ocorrem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;São anos rápidos, pois muitas situações atingem o auge e o seu desenlace acelera-se.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Devem ser aproveitados para a resolução de tudo o qu estiver pendente e arrumação de todos os assuntos que estejam por encerrar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um ano pessoal 1:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mudanças, criação de novas oportunidades, inicio de actividades, relacionamentos ou situações.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;São anos rápidos e que exigem capacidade de iniciativa e de mudança.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Podem ser aproveitados para imprimir alterações na vida e criar novas situações.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Estas características, digamos assim, não são de minha autoria, estão no livro "Numerologia Kármica" de Clara de Almeida, da editora Pergaminho. Passando a publicidade, recomendo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5549467142996158149?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5549467142996158149/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5549467142996158149&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5549467142996158149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5549467142996158149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/08/numerologia.html' title='Numerologia'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rrh5CqXccoI/AAAAAAAAADo/LBXyZggdMjc/s72-c/colection_child368.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5633782994821181619</id><published>2007-08-02T01:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:46.481Z</updated><title type='text'>Ano 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RrEwwqXccnI/AAAAAAAAADg/00WJd6FqaJs/s1600-h/unexpected-01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093906266097218162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RrEwwqXccnI/AAAAAAAAADg/00WJd6FqaJs/s320/unexpected-01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ontem foi, oficialmente, o meu primeiro dia do meu ano 1!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Para quem se interessa por numerologia, já deve ter mais ou menos uma ideia sobre o assunto. Para os restantes, um ano 1, de uma forma muito sucinta e leiga, é como que o ano de todas as oportunidades; em que tudo pode acontecer; um ano de mudanças.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pois é! Após um ano 9, em que tudo aquilo que tem de acabar, acaba, vem sempre um ano 1. Neste último ano, desde Agosto de 2006, &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; coisas aconteceram na minha vida, &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; coisas mudaram em mim. Umas por minha vontade, outras nem por isso, mas é nestas últimas que mais tarde, ao olhar para trás, nos apercebemos que na realidade tinham mesmo de acontecer, mais cedo ou mais tarde, e que feitas as contas tudo acontece por um motivo, nada é fruto do acaso e que todos os capítulos da nossa existência têm um fim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ao começar este novo ano, digamos assim, sinto-me como já não me sentia à um bom tempo. Sinto-me preparado para a mudança, para enfrentar todos os desafios de braços abertos, com uma boa gargalhada, sem no entanto deixar de lado o meu tão famoso espirito critico! Sinto-me confiante com as escolhas e decisões que irei tomar, os caminhos a seguir, as posições que irei adoptar. Mas mais importante que isso tudo, sinto-me novamente, desperto, curioso, expectante, lúcido, forte e principalmente com uma vontade enorme de voltar a tomar as rédeas da minha vida, em vez de a deixar ao acaso!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sinto-me feliz, tranquilo, como uma criança que corre para os braços de alguém que ama, sem saber conjugar o verbo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5633782994821181619?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5633782994821181619/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5633782994821181619&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5633782994821181619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5633782994821181619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/08/ano-1.html' title='Ano 1'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RrEwwqXccnI/AAAAAAAAADg/00WJd6FqaJs/s72-c/unexpected-01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7328681078234821303</id><published>2007-07-27T04:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:46.593Z</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RqlkzqXccmI/AAAAAAAAADY/o9FQv1B96kM/s1600-h/puppetstring.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091711692427784802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RqlkzqXccmI/AAAAAAAAADY/o9FQv1B96kM/s320/puppetstring.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há vontades que se apoderam de nós. De tal forma que nos turvam a visão, confudem o tacto, o olfacto, fazem-nos sentir o doce, amargo e deixar de ouvir a razão. É nestas alturas que sinto o meu lado animal a sobrepor-se a tudo o resto, como se se tratasse de uma questão de sobrevivência. Deixo de ser eu mesmo e todos os meus sentidos estão despertos, mas sinergicamente orientados para o mesmo fim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parece que se não sucumbirmos a esse capricho, que morremos por dentro. Que nos vamos lamentar para todo o sempre de algo que podiamos ter feito e não fizemos. Assim que o satisfazemos, sentimo-nos tranquilos, serenos, satisfeitos com o nosso desempenho, perfeitamente alienados de qualquer sentimento de culpa. Ainda que este todo de sensações seja breve, faz-nos sentir que cumprimos o nosso papel, ainda que não vá de encontro a todas as regras impostas por uma sociedade ou por uma escala de valores desenvolvida com base em princípios que nos são simplesmente impostos, que nos moldam e pelos quais é esperado que o todo o nosso comportamento seja regido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fim de contas, temos sempre a consciência. Aquela que reside no outro prato da mesma balança, e que esperamos que seja sempre mais pesada, ou que saibamos como a calibrar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7328681078234821303?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7328681078234821303/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7328681078234821303&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7328681078234821303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7328681078234821303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/07/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RqlkzqXccmI/AAAAAAAAADY/o9FQv1B96kM/s72-c/puppetstring.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5545347145549544075</id><published>2007-07-25T01:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:46.748Z</updated><title type='text'>A Aparição</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RqaeCqXcclI/AAAAAAAAADQ/XIn1mnt6Rsk/s1600-h/galer39a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090930197358473810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RqaeCqXcclI/AAAAAAAAADQ/XIn1mnt6Rsk/s320/galer39a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um dos livros que mais me marcou, foi &lt;em&gt;A Aparição&lt;/em&gt;, de Vergílio Ferreira.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Outro dia apeteceu-me relê-lo. Não só porque me apeteceu, mas também para ver como o leria passados 10 anos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uma das frases que tirei do livro, foi: "Os astros, a terra, esta sala, existem. Mas é através de mim que se instalam em vida: a minha morte é o nada de tudo."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ora ai está que as coisas e as pessoas só têm a importância que nós lhes damos, e que a morte, não tem necessariamente que ser uma morte fisica!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5545347145549544075?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5545347145549544075/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5545347145549544075&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5545347145549544075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5545347145549544075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/07/apario.html' title='A Aparição'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RqaeCqXcclI/AAAAAAAAADQ/XIn1mnt6Rsk/s72-c/galer39a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-8447157757142903766</id><published>2007-07-21T01:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:46.876Z</updated><title type='text'>Crise existencial</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RqFTuKXcckI/AAAAAAAAADI/Tjd2BbfCMz4/s1600-h/candles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089441106427146818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RqFTuKXcckI/AAAAAAAAADI/Tjd2BbfCMz4/s320/candles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Começou hoje, oficialmente a minha crise existencial anual!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Vai ter uma duração de cerca de 30 dias, pelo que durante este periodo de tempo, provavelmente andarei triste, cabisbaicho, macambúzio, silencioso, discreto, irritadiço, com os nervos em franja, etc etc etc. Tudo isto devido apenas ao simples facto de estar prestes a chegar a data da comemoração anual desta minha existência fisica na Terra!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desde já apresento as minhas desculpas a todos aqueles que me possam ligar e eu não atender, não responder aos SMSs, uma vez que devo andar ocupado a encontrar um novo tratamento anti-rugas, qual o último grito em cirurgia estética ou ainda qual o modelo automóvel mais recente direccionado aos jovens!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;A idade até pode ser encarada com um sorriso nos lábios, mas com o passar do tempo, o sorriso começa a trazer a companhia dos amigos pés de galinha, duplo queixo, calvice, e afins. Já para não falar da dor de cabeça que se vai começando a sentir, ao pensarmos na quantidade de velas que temos de apagar num só sopro!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-8447157757142903766?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/8447157757142903766/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=8447157757142903766&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8447157757142903766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8447157757142903766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/07/crise-existencial.html' title='Crise existencial'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RqFTuKXcckI/AAAAAAAAADI/Tjd2BbfCMz4/s72-c/candles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-6659214399638664978</id><published>2007-07-19T11:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:47.080Z</updated><title type='text'>Insónias</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rp861PFvJLI/AAAAAAAAADA/i4efFU1g4zE/s1600-h/19072007016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088850790210020530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rp861PFvJLI/AAAAAAAAADA/i4efFU1g4zE/s320/19072007016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: mr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sofro de insónias já à algum tempo a esta parte. Não sei muito bem porquê, mas gosto da noite, semprei gostei. Acho que durante a noite se passam coisas muito mais interessantes do que durante o dia, enquanto todos desempenhamos os papeis sociais que acham mais convenientes para nós, ou que nos propusemos a desempenhar, e que durante a noite podemos ser o que nós bem quisermos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gosto do silêncio da noite, de ouvir um carro de vez em quando na rua, de ouvir um galo a cantar fora de horas, da programação da tv especialmente dedicada a quem não dorme e que por isso mesmo passam aqueles anuncios a produtos completamente disparatados na ânsia de que os que não dormem e vêem tv têm uma autoestima tão em baixo que os vão logo comprar só para ficarem como os modelos que os demonstram.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A minha cabeça durante a noite, parece que não pára. Parece que durante a noite consigo ser eu próprio, para mim mesmo. Como se tirasse uma folga quase diária de tudo o resto que me rodeia para que consiga manter a sanidade e no dia seguinte voltar a desempenhar o papel esperado. Tornar-me novamente na pessoa que todos julgam conhecer e cujas atitudes não surpreendem aqueles que alegam serem conhecedores da minha forma de agir. LOL No fundo, acho que todos somos uns óptimos actores... Sempe achei muito mais interessante os outros pensarem que me estavam a enganar quando na realidade quem se ria intimamente era eu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Na realidade acabo por pensar em tudo o que já me aconteceu, analisar tudo, esmiuaçar todas as palavras proferidas até à exaustão, e assim tentar racionalizar aquilo que na verdade é irracional.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-6659214399638664978?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/6659214399638664978/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=6659214399638664978&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6659214399638664978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6659214399638664978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/07/insnias.html' title='Insónias'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rp861PFvJLI/AAAAAAAAADA/i4efFU1g4zE/s72-c/19072007016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7099926668857360346</id><published>2007-07-19T03:39:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:47.490Z</updated><title type='text'>Velocidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rp7TefFvJKI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tUYymS0GQYk/s1600-h/pressa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088737149670335650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rp7TefFvJKI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tUYymS0GQYk/s320/pressa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rp7TSfFvJJI/AAAAAAAAACw/fy3hU970Z28/s1600-h/highway.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje desesperei-me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Os motivos que me levaram ao desespero, não são importantes, pelo menos não neste contexo. O curioso, e que achei de relevância suficiente para colocar aqui, foi o facto de algum tempo após ter atingido esse climax, peguei no carro, entrei na auto-estrada, e o simples facto de carregar num pedal relevou-se-me repentinamente quase num curativo, como se o simples facto de ser detentor de tal poder eliminasse toda a carga negativa que em mim estava como que aprisionada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Já sabia que conduzir sozinho, especialmente à noite, para mim funciona quase como se estivesse deitado numa chaise longue de design exclusivo, que no final de contas, ao fim de algum tempo, já a poderia ter em casa! Mas a noção de que a matéria no fim de contas consegue "controlar" o imaterial é que me surpreendeu. Acredito que muito provavelmente tenha surtido tal efeito devido a, de uma certa maneira insconsciente, sentir que controlava qualquer coisa que não eu mesmo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7099926668857360346?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7099926668857360346/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7099926668857360346&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7099926668857360346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7099926668857360346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/07/velocidade.html' title='Velocidade'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rp7TefFvJKI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tUYymS0GQYk/s72-c/pressa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-6171959491562753370</id><published>2007-07-07T04:31:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:47.797Z</updated><title type='text'>Fruto Proibido</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ro8LFHFmWOI/AAAAAAAAACo/FcvmTxn53Ns/s1600-h/normal_apple.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084294686754363618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ro8LFHFmWOI/AAAAAAAAACo/FcvmTxn53Ns/s320/normal_apple.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; Fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Porque será que o fruto proibido é sempre o mais apetecido?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aquilo que julgamos não estar ao nosso alcance é sempre o que temos mais vontade de possuir... ainda que seja por breves momentos... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Incrivel como o desejo pelo inantingível nos desperta os sentidos com a rapidez de um simples piscar de olhos... E nos transforma num animal predador de olhar malicioso, doce, encantador e ao mesmo tempo enigmático à espera do momento oportuno..........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-6171959491562753370?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/6171959491562753370/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=6171959491562753370&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6171959491562753370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6171959491562753370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/07/fonte-google-porque-ser-que-o-fruto.html' title='Fruto Proibido'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ro8LFHFmWOI/AAAAAAAAACo/FcvmTxn53Ns/s72-c/normal_apple.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-92457434968395136</id><published>2007-07-05T13:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:48.032Z</updated><title type='text'>Saldos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RozkVHFmWNI/AAAAAAAAACg/AYydTNcTWOw/s1600-h/saldos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083689130725365970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RozkVHFmWNI/AAAAAAAAACg/AYydTNcTWOw/s320/saldos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Finalmente parece que o Verão e o calor vieram para ficar! Chegaram também os saldos, o que é sempre uma óptima desculpa para irmos às compras e rebentar com o orçamento que ainda por cima este mês é bem maior devido ao subsídio de férias! Aliado a isto tudo, hoje decidi ainda ir cortar o cabelo e mudar um bocadinho de look!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Não fosse eu um bom nativo de Leão, e estas coisas não me deixariam com o astral nos píncaros!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-92457434968395136?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/92457434968395136/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=92457434968395136&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/92457434968395136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/92457434968395136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/07/finalmente-parece-que-o-vero-e-o-calor.html' title='Saldos'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RozkVHFmWNI/AAAAAAAAACg/AYydTNcTWOw/s72-c/saldos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-3374685085954339211</id><published>2007-06-24T20:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:48.290Z</updated><title type='text'>Porquê???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rn7CCwlgMnI/AAAAAAAAACY/0kKz8-nMfyM/s1600-h/15thinkerlarge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079710782378226290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rn7CCwlgMnI/AAAAAAAAACY/0kKz8-nMfyM/s320/15thinkerlarge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desde sempre que me lembro de querer saber o porquê das coisas. Nunca fiquei completamente satisfeito com respostas do tipo: Porque sim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não me considero daquele tipo de pessoas que tem a mania de saber tudo e mais alguma coisa, mas em determinados assuntos a curiosidade prevalece e sou incapaz de me deixar ficar pela mera consciencialização da sua existência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Inclusivé na minha própria vida, tento sempre encontrar uma resposta para tudo, saber o motivo, as razões, as causas que levaram a determinado acontecimento ou atitude. Isto levou-me a concluir que existem certas coisas que não conseguimos alcançar a resposta, que são assim, porque sim! Isto irrita-me. Porque razão é que não somos capazes de conseguir encontrar a essência, ainda que algum tempo passado ao refletirmos sobre a resposta continua sem parecer visivel. Aqui depois entra a parte em que já não interessa, mas a dúvida permanece.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Contudo e até chegar a um estado de desistência, faço conjecturas dignas de um sucesso de bilheteira, questiono-me a mim mesmo e a tudo o que me rodeia ao ponto de chegar a colocar-me a mim à prova e aos outros também. Na maioria das vezes, isto leva-me a concluir que estou mais baralhado e confuso do que inicialmente... lol Mas a confrontação do lado moral, ético, profissional, emocional, racional, lógico, etc das coisas, já me fez por diversas vezes, aperceber-me de determinadas facetas em mim que desconhecia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tudo isto leva-me várias vezes a desejar ser como aquelas pessoas que aceitam tudo sem reservas. Como será possivel que as pessoas nao sentem necessidade de se questionarem? De quererem saber porque é que viraram à esquerda e não seguiram em frente? Será que a simples aceitação de tudo é mais confortável? Será que são mais felizes? Não sei.... Mas muito sinceramente acho que vou continuar a ser como sempre fui: Um eterno insatisfeito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-3374685085954339211?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/3374685085954339211/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=3374685085954339211&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3374685085954339211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3374685085954339211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/06/porqu.html' title='Porquê???'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rn7CCwlgMnI/AAAAAAAAACY/0kKz8-nMfyM/s72-c/15thinkerlarge.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-3779594077576244060</id><published>2007-06-24T04:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:48.534Z</updated><title type='text'>Presença</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rn3p5glgMlI/AAAAAAAAACE/BEn47NYBtgs/s1600-h/pai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079473128952836690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rn3p5glgMlI/AAAAAAAAACE/BEn47NYBtgs/s320/pai.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Já alguma vez pensaram em alguém de uma maneira tão forte que chegaram inclusivé a sentir essa pessoa junto de vós? Inclusivé a sentir o seu cheiro? Quase o calor do seu corpo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Acabei agora mesmo de chegar a casa e no caminho para cá, não reparei no luar, contrariamente ao que costumo fazer, sempre que faço este trajecto - Não sei porquê, mas a lua parece-me diferente quando vou sozinho a conduzir - e após uma conversa que tive com uma grande amiga minha (mencionada mais uma vez no meu bilogue. Vá, podes acrescentar mais esta :) ) senti a impossivel presença fisica de uma certa pessoa junto a mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desde que o meu Pai decidiu que já tinha terminado a sua tarefa aqui, junto de nós fisicamente, que digo: "Agora, ele vai estar sempre comigo, e sempre a meu lado!" Mas hoje senti-o de uma forma diferente... Como se ele se quisesse assegurar, que em mais algum momento eu duvidasse que ele me abandonaria. Não sei muito bem o que está para vir, mas desde que sonhei com o meu Pai a primeira e última vez até ao momento, que a minha vida mudou radicalmente. Nada muito visível, muito notório, talvez mais a forma como encaro a vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;De facto nunca fui muito proximo do meu pai. Sempre nos demos relativamente bem. Talvez porque sou demasiado parecido com ele em algumas coisas. Mas desde que ele morreu que sinto um orgulho inexplicável de o ser. Quando me fizeram e me leram a carta astral, disseram-me que eu tinha um assunto para resolver com o meu pai. na altura lembro-me de ter pensado que era uma parvoice autêntica o que tinha acabado de ouvir pois o meu pai tinha morrido à cerca de 3 meses atrás. Mas disseram-me de imediato: "Agora que ele já morreu, vai ser bem mais fácil!" Voltei a pensar para comigo, como é que seria possivel ser mais fácil eu resolver o que quer que fosse se o meu pai já não estava fisicamente presente. Mas intimamente sinto que agora vejo o meu pai de uma maneira completamente diferente da forma como o via. Não o estou a idolatrar, como é costume fazerem a todas as pessoas que já morreram, mas agora entendo melhor algumas das suas atitudes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lamento que faça parte do tão conhecido facto que só damos valor ao que temos, quando o perdemos. Mas ainda assim, não me arrependo, nem por um momento, de em alguma altura o ter escolhido para ser o meu pai.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-3779594077576244060?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/3779594077576244060/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=3779594077576244060&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3779594077576244060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3779594077576244060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/06/j-alguma-vez-pensaram-em-algum-de-uma.html' title='Presença'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rn3p5glgMlI/AAAAAAAAACE/BEn47NYBtgs/s72-c/pai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-3883505957050679896</id><published>2007-06-13T13:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:48.965Z</updated><title type='text'>Destino</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075530224421057074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rm_n2QlgMjI/AAAAAAAAAB0/MnKof-tJnpw/s320/metro.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desde sempre acreditei que temos o nosso destino traçado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não sei muito bem porquê, mas é daquelas convicções que nos lembramos sentir desde sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;De inicio, até me parece reconfortante, de certa forma, pensar que independentemente das escolhas que fazemos, caso algo não corra de acordo com o esperado, existe sempre a possibilidade de apontar o dedo e de nos livrarmos de toda a culpa que possamos sentir por termos feito uma escolha menos acertada, digamos assim. No entanto, pensando bem sobre o assunto torna-se assustador apercebermo-nos que não temos qualquer tipo de decisão, de opção, de escolha, que o livre arbitrio deixa de existir e que todos os nossos passos estão calculados até ao mais ínfimo pormenor, até ao último e derradeiro momento em que vivemos a vida tal como a conhecemos! Faz-nos sentir meras marionetas que se mexem de uma forma mecanica ao sabor da vontade de alguém, neste caso, de algo demasiado abrangente para o nosso entendimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Vendo as coisas de um ponto de vista lírico, quase até que se me esboça um sorriso nos lábios, mas ao tomar consciência do lado prático do quotidiano, de pensarmos que quando estamos em frente a uma prateleira do supermercado a tentar decidir se compramos bolachas com recheio de chocolate ou com pepitas de chocolate; se ao olharmos para a ementa de um restaurante tentamos escolher qual o prato que vamos pedir; se ao acordar de manhã ao levantar da cama pomos um pé de cada vez no chao ou os dois ao mesmo tempo, faz-me sentir oco, vazio, livre de qualquer responsabilidade, de qualquer culpabilidade, de entendimento de coisa alguma, mas principalmente enganado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Prefiro acreditar que apesar de tudo, somos uma parte interveniente da nossa própria vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-3883505957050679896?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/3883505957050679896/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=3883505957050679896&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3883505957050679896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3883505957050679896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/06/destino.html' title='Destino'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rm_n2QlgMjI/AAAAAAAAAB0/MnKof-tJnpw/s72-c/metro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-3382348928174879633</id><published>2007-06-09T01:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:49.112Z</updated><title type='text'>SushiMania</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RmnyLQlgMiI/AAAAAAAAABs/E9dMwwJWqPM/s1600-h/sushi4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073852730454323746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RmnyLQlgMiI/AAAAAAAAABs/E9dMwwJWqPM/s320/sushi4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;f&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;onte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;OK, confesso! Estou completamente rendido a um dos últimos gritos fashion da nossa sociedade: Sushi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desde à já uns anos que queria experimentar sushi. Tanto que chateei uma amiga minha que um dia quase que me obrigou a comer uma sadinha crua toda de uma só vez, pois já não me podia ouvir falar em ir comer peixe cru!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mas facto é, que hoje em dia ela é a primeiríssima a chegar ao japonês para mais uma refeição de sushi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu, da minha parte, confesso: Adoro, estou fã! Recomendo vivamente a todos que experimentem, ou não fosse a experimentação a prova definitiva (ou não) de qualquer teoria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-3382348928174879633?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/3382348928174879633/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=3382348928174879633&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3382348928174879633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/3382348928174879633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/06/sushimania.html' title='SushiMania'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RmnyLQlgMiI/AAAAAAAAABs/E9dMwwJWqPM/s72-c/sushi4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-2010145559938198494</id><published>2007-06-08T15:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:49.518Z</updated><title type='text'>PDI</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rmlx6wlgMhI/AAAAAAAAABk/jlQonBx-Ohc/s1600-h/23219601.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073711709498126866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rmlx6wlgMhI/AAAAAAAAABk/jlQonBx-Ohc/s320/23219601.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uma das coisas que ultimamente me tem atormentado, de certa forma, é a ideia cada vez mais presente, de que estou quase a chegar aos 30.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há quem diga que não há como os 30, mas é daquelas coisas que me assusta um bocado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Na realidade o fazer 30 anos, deve ser precisamente como quando fazemos 18. Pensamos que vai ser tudo diferente só pelo simples facto de já podermos votar, tirar a carta de condução, não precisar da autorização formal dos nossos pais para fazermos inúmeras coisas. Verdade é que após ter feito 18 anos senti-me a mesmíssima pessoa, apenas com 18 anos. Nada mais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No entanto quer-me parecer que a chegada aos 30 não será tão amena como aos 18, quanto mais não seja pelas alterações fisicas que começamos a notar. Comecei a usar cremes para a cara e para o corpo regularmente; comecei a ter mais cuidado com os champos e gel que uso no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; cabelo, por forma a preservar a minha farta juba leonina; Inscrevi-me num ginásio e voltei a ter cuidado com o como.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Realmente, se alguém que ler isto me conhecer mesmo ha-de pensar qualquer coisa como: "Só mesmo ele!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje encontrei um provérbio chinês que diz o seguite: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#336666;"&gt;A juventude não é uma época da vida, é um estado de espírito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E agora vem a parte futil: como os chineses o acham, e têm provérbios, que na minha opinião são fantásticos, não há-de ser assim tão mau quanto isso, com certeza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tal como eu costumo dizer: Sou como o Vinho do Porto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-2010145559938198494?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/2010145559938198494/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=2010145559938198494&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2010145559938198494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2010145559938198494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/06/pdi.html' title='PDI'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rmlx6wlgMhI/AAAAAAAAABk/jlQonBx-Ohc/s72-c/23219601.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-8905807843865665863</id><published>2007-06-08T00:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:49.759Z</updated><title type='text'>Sorrir</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RmiV2wlgMgI/AAAAAAAAABc/Ku_tlV8EHdM/s1600-h/man%20smile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073469748220539394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RmiV2wlgMgI/AAAAAAAAABc/Ku_tlV8EHdM/s320/man%2520smile.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; fonte: google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há dias em que nos apetece sorrir......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sorrir porque está Sol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sorrir porque acordamos ao ouvir o mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sorrir porque abrimos a janela e vimos um passarinho a cantar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sorrir porque alguém nos preparou o pequeno-almoço e o levou à cama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sorrir porque descobrimos no olhar de alguém um novo brilho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sorrir porque vemos uma criança na rua a fazer travessuras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sorrir porque chegamos ao final de um dia e simplesmente nos apetece sorrir!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Garanto-vos que não há nada como um bom sorriso!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-8905807843865665863?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/8905807843865665863/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=8905807843865665863&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8905807843865665863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8905807843865665863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/06/sorrir.html' title='Sorrir'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RmiV2wlgMgI/AAAAAAAAABc/Ku_tlV8EHdM/s72-c/man%2520smile.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5977985185875949739</id><published>2007-05-24T01:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:50.240Z</updated><title type='text'>Vai um Faduncho??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RlTbKItJYCI/AAAAAAAAABU/WsGH5mklCn8/s1600-h/srvinho_ep.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067916447880667170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RlTbKItJYCI/AAAAAAAAABU/WsGH5mklCn8/s320/srvinho_ep.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;Fonte: Google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Até à uns anos atrás, não conseguia perceber qual o encanto do Fado! Essa música lusitana, que tantos amam, que corre mundo mas que ninguém a canta como um bom português!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Graças a uma grande amiga minha, comecei a gostar de Fado! Não sou nenhum fanático, nem pouco mais ou menos, mas agora acho que quem não gosta de Fado, não tem uma alma tipica portuguesa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um dos primeiros fados que ouvi, cantado por Mariza, ainda que seja um Fado de Amália, foi "Oiça lá ó Senhor Vinho"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ouvi-o, achei piada, mas quando ouvi bem a letra, apercebi-me que de &lt;em&gt;Senhor Vinho&lt;/em&gt;, todos nós temos um pouco! Ora leiam lá a letra e digam-me se tenho ou não razão!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oiça lá ó senhor vinho,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vai responder-me, mas com franqueza:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque é que tira toda a firmeza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a quem encontra no seu caminho?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lá por beber um copinho a mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;até pessoas pacatas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;amigo vinho, em desalinho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vossa mercê faz andar de gatas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;É mau procedimento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e há intenção naquilo que faz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Entra-se em desequilíbrio,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;não há equilíbrio que seja capaz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As leis da Física falham&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e a vertical de qualquer lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;oscila sem se deter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e deixa de ser perpendicular.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Eu já fui", responde o vinho,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"A folha solta brincara ao vento,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;fui raio de sol no firmamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;que trouxe a uva, doce carinho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ainda guardo o calor do sol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e assim eu até dou vida,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;aumento o valor seja de quem for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;na boa conta, peso e medida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E só faço mal a quem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;me julga ninguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e faz pouco de mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quem me trata como água&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;é ofensa, pago-a!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu cá sou assim."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Vossa mercê tem razão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e é ingratidão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;falar mal do vinho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E a provar o que digo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vamos, meu amigo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a mais um copinho!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5977985185875949739?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5977985185875949739/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5977985185875949739&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5977985185875949739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5977985185875949739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/05/vai-um-faduncho.html' title='Vai um Faduncho??'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RlTbKItJYCI/AAAAAAAAABU/WsGH5mklCn8/s72-c/srvinho_ep.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-7631172901316949467</id><published>2007-05-15T02:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:50.635Z</updated><title type='text'>Numerologia Karmica</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Finalmente decidi dar uso ao presente de Natal oferecido pelos meus colegas de trabalho, e comprei um livro. Após algum tempo, lá me decidi por este:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RkkPBCzPpaI/AAAAAAAAABM/bRPDut3gze4/s1600-h/colection_child368.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064595766560925090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RkkPBCzPpaI/AAAAAAAAABM/bRPDut3gze4/s320/colection_child368.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sinopse:&lt;/strong&gt; Ao encarnar, cada Alma traz consigo um Plano de Vida para cumprir. Contudo, esse Plano só se torna compreensível de forma consciente através de processos como a leitura de mãos, de cartas astrológicas ou de mapas numerológicos. Em Numerologia Kármica, Clara de Almeida apresenta uma perspectiva inovadora desta ciência milenar, ligando-a à análise Kármica e à regressão a vidas passadas para uma compreensão mais plena no sentido das nossas vidas presentes. Este livro é complementado por um modelo de estudo numerológico kármico individual e por tabelas explicativas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;in&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.loja.editorapergaminho.pt/compra.php?id=320&amp;id_page=1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.loja.editorapergaminho.pt/compra.php?id=320&amp;amp;id_page=1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixei-me que vos diga que é bastante curioso nos identificarmos com algumas coisas que podemos ler neste livro. Para além de que a grande maioria delas, fazem todo o sentido!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aconselho a todos aqueles que acreditam, os que acreditam assim-assim, e àqueles que não acreditam de todo, que nós vivemos aquilo a que nós próprios nos propusemos a viver!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Já agora, a todos os que me ofereceram o livro, o meu muito obrigado! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-7631172901316949467?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/7631172901316949467/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=7631172901316949467&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7631172901316949467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/7631172901316949467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/05/numerologia-karmica.html' title='Numerologia Karmica'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RkkPBCzPpaI/AAAAAAAAABM/bRPDut3gze4/s72-c/colection_child368.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-6214261070269095195</id><published>2007-05-12T16:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:50.822Z</updated><title type='text'>Horóscopo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RkXd1CzPpZI/AAAAAAAAABE/PvD7ZViZnD4/s1600-h/leao.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063697259402601874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RkXd1CzPpZI/AAAAAAAAABE/PvD7ZViZnD4/s320/leao.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Outro dia o meu horóscopo dizia o seguinte:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Poder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se me cortarem as asas, irei a pé&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se me amputarem as pernas, caminharei com as mãos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se por sua vez, mas tirarem rastejarei sobre o ventre&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Desde que possa chegar onde desejo!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-6214261070269095195?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/6214261070269095195/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=6214261070269095195&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6214261070269095195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/6214261070269095195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/05/horscopo.html' title='Horóscopo'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RkXd1CzPpZI/AAAAAAAAABE/PvD7ZViZnD4/s72-c/leao.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-4537747990757357119</id><published>2007-04-29T17:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:50.946Z</updated><title type='text'>Dias Cinzentos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RjTK4CzPpYI/AAAAAAAAAA8/ZJaJA5_g6po/s1600-h/625295-medium.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058891345617200514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RjTK4CzPpYI/AAAAAAAAAA8/ZJaJA5_g6po/s320/625295-medium.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hoje está um daqueles dias cinzentos, em que mal nos levantamos da cama, com uma vontade enorme de fazermos 3 milhõs e meio de coisas, perdemos logo toda a vontade assim que chegamos à janela!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Estes dias deprimem-me, deixam-me com vontade de fazer coisissima nenhuma!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ainda bem que o mês de Abril - Abril águas mil - está mesmo na recta final, e o calor que já deu sinal de si este ano está mesmo aí a chegar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No entanto, nada melhor para animar o espirito do que um grande derby lisboeta. Sim, até eu que não sou fã de futebol, vou estar colado à TV!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-4537747990757357119?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/4537747990757357119/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=4537747990757357119&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4537747990757357119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/4537747990757357119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/04/dias-cinzentos.html' title='Dias Cinzentos'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RjTK4CzPpYI/AAAAAAAAAA8/ZJaJA5_g6po/s72-c/625295-medium.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-8846019970254363533</id><published>2007-04-25T16:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:51.540Z</updated><title type='text'>Recarregar Baterias</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ri957SzPpXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/hj7xq29N8gI/s1600-h/07042007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057394966126372210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ri957SzPpXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/hj7xq29N8gI/s320/07042007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Após uma semana plena de acontecimentos, noticias, sentimentos e de sensações que não nos deixam parar por um só segundo, nada melhor do que um fim-de-semana de sol, de calor, de praia, e da melhor das companhias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A mim o Sol sempre me renovou energias, ou não fosse eu nativo de Leão... e um passeio pela praia no final do dia, daqueles em que nos descalçamos, arregaçamos as calças e caminhamos junto à água.... faz melhor que um ano de terapia no melhor dos especialistas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-8846019970254363533?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/8846019970254363533/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=8846019970254363533&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8846019970254363533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8846019970254363533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/04/recarregar-baterias.html' title='Recarregar Baterias'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Ri957SzPpXI/AAAAAAAAAA0/hj7xq29N8gI/s72-c/07042007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-1981713871422559382</id><published>2007-04-17T15:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:51.983Z</updated><title type='text'>Saudade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RiTewtVomYI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MiB0U98ZoCY/s1600-h/DSC04811%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054409610201962882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RiTewtVomYI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MiB0U98ZoCY/s320/DSC04811%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Uma lista compilada por uma empresa britânica com as opiniões de mil tradutores profissionais coloca a palavra "&lt;a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saudade"&gt;saudade&lt;/a&gt;", em português, como a sétima mais difícil do mundo para se traduzir. (&lt;a href="http://www1.folha.uol.com.br/folha/bbc/ult272u32676.shtml"&gt;artigo&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho saudades de pessoas, saudades de lugares, saudades de velhos tempos, saudades de cheiros... Uma as coisas que me começou a intrigar desde à uns tempos para cá, foi precisamente a tomada de consciência do que um determinado cheiro é capaz de nos fazer recordar! Foi nada mais do que o cheiro do after-shave do meu pai que me despertou, digamos assim. Lembrei-me dos meus tempos de infância :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;À medida que o tempo vai passando, e que cada vez mais me vou aproximando dos 30, apercebo-me que todos os dias me lembro de qualquer coisa da qual inevitavelmente começo a sentir saudades. Pois é... apesar de me considerar uma pessoa positiva, optimista, sempre tive esta característica de ser apegado ao passado. Gosto de recordar o que vivi, as risadas que dei, as parvoices que fiz... LOL e digam-me lá se isso não vos faz sorrir também!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Apesar de existirem amigos meus que me dizem que enquanto estiver agarrado ao passado não vou conseguir seguir em frente, por outro lado vejo o passado mais como uma experiência. Encaro-o como se estivesse a fazer uma corrida de barreiras e a forma como passei por cima da barreira anterior, ou a derrubei, faz-me correr com mais vontade ainda, para que nas barreiras seguintes salte sem tocar nelas até ao momento em que já não preciso de saltar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-1981713871422559382?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/1981713871422559382/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=1981713871422559382&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1981713871422559382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/1981713871422559382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/04/saudade.html' title='Saudade'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RiTewtVomYI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MiB0U98ZoCY/s72-c/DSC04811%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-5618246783477340362</id><published>2007-04-10T04:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:52.232Z</updated><title type='text'>Se o arrependimento matasse...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RhsEjtVomXI/AAAAAAAAAAk/LHvTsFNJLSM/s1600-h/31545146_630ad59abf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051636418538412402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RhsEjtVomXI/AAAAAAAAAAk/LHvTsFNJLSM/s320/31545146_630ad59abf.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Umas das frases que ouço desde pequeno, é: "Se o arrependimento matasse....!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Na realidade, todos nos temos coisas de que nos arrependemos. E os que dizem que nunca se arrependeram de nada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Todos nós fazemos escolhas menos acertadas, optamos por caminhos mais turtuosos! Mas no final de contas, se não o tivéssemos feito, não nos iríamos questionar para todo o sempre do que nos tinha acontecido se tivéssemos tomado a decisão que nos levou ao arrependimento?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A experiência faz com que obtenhamos a resposta a uma hipótese, e caso essas vivências não tenham resultado no que queríamos, podemos na grande maioria das vezes voltar a experimentar afim de testarmos uma segunda hipótese, não? Eu gosto de acreditar que sim! Chamam-me de sonhador, de optimista, de utópico, mas acho que todos nós merecemos uma segunda oportunidade, da mesma forma que devemos sempre dar a nós mesmos um número infinito de possibilidades de experiência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Como diria um grande Sr que tive o prazer de conhecer: "Arrepende-te sempre do que fizeres e nunca do que podias ter feito!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-5618246783477340362?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/5618246783477340362/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=5618246783477340362&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5618246783477340362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/5618246783477340362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/04/se-o-arrependimento-matasse.html' title='Se o arrependimento matasse...'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RhsEjtVomXI/AAAAAAAAAAk/LHvTsFNJLSM/s72-c/31545146_630ad59abf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-8483775368970121689</id><published>2007-04-04T01:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:52.486Z</updated><title type='text'>Amo-vos a todos... por aquilo que não sou!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RhLv48cGuRI/AAAAAAAAAAc/UJpLQNu3n58/s1600-h/20060323-flor%2520azul.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049361893811468562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RhLv48cGuRI/AAAAAAAAAAc/UJpLQNu3n58/s320/20060323-flor%2520azul.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tenho uma grande amiga que fez teatro amador durante algum tempo. E das várias peças que assisti em que ela protagonizava uma ou várias personagens, houve uma que me marcou.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A ss (minha amiga) representou o papel de uma mulher louca que vivia num hospital psiquiatrico. No final do seu monólogo, a persongem diz: "Amo-vos a todos..... Por aquilo que não sou!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ss: a flor acima, é-te eternamente dedicada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-8483775368970121689?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/8483775368970121689/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=8483775368970121689&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8483775368970121689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/8483775368970121689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/04/amo-vos-todos-por-aquilo-que-no-sou.html' title='Amo-vos a todos... por aquilo que não sou!'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RhLv48cGuRI/AAAAAAAAAAc/UJpLQNu3n58/s72-c/20060323-flor%2520azul.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-154625782385524371</id><published>2007-04-03T01:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:52.907Z</updated><title type='text'>One of Those Days - at work</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RhGf3scGuQI/AAAAAAAAAAU/nHvHtTBgMNc/s1600-h/badday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048992436429699330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RhGf3scGuQI/AAAAAAAAAAU/nHvHtTBgMNc/s320/badday.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Desde o inicio da semana passada que lá ando eu feito barata tonta a correr de um lado para o outro no meu emprego. E quando finalmente chegou Sexta-Feira, pensei: "Para a próxima semana, as coisas já estão mais calmas!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Pois é! Vai dai que nem por isso. Sabem daqueles dias em que acordam e o dia começa logo a 300 km/h e que apesar de todo o esforço que fazemos, parece que nada corre bem?!?! Ainda por cima, quando pensamos que já não podia acontecer mais nada, eis que o impensável acontece!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Muito sinceramente, não há auto-controle que resista!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-154625782385524371?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/154625782385524371/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=154625782385524371&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/154625782385524371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/154625782385524371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/04/one-of-those-days-at-work.html' title='One of Those Days - at work'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/RhGf3scGuQI/AAAAAAAAAAU/nHvHtTBgMNc/s72-c/badday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7369969057727365855.post-2196142654444413631</id><published>2007-03-31T17:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:15:53.178Z</updated><title type='text'>Inicio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rg6OaccGuPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/dlmeyyUEn8g/s1600-h/Embriao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048128817290721522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rg6OaccGuPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/dlmeyyUEn8g/s320/Embriao.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Após algum tempo a resistir à tentação de criar um blog, aqui está ele. O blog do mr, &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;by mr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não sei muito bem o que vou publicar, se vão existir leitores assiduos ou não, se o que irei publicar será interessante ou não. No entanto, deixei de me preocupar com essas pequenas grandes questões que me assolavam a alma, e cá está ele online, disponível para quem quiser matar algum tempo disponível que tenha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7369969057727365855-2196142654444413631?l=bymr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/feeds/2196142654444413631/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7369969057727365855&amp;postID=2196142654444413631&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2196142654444413631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7369969057727365855/posts/default/2196142654444413631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bymr.blogspot.com/2007/03/aps-algum-tempo-resistir-tentao-de.html' title='Inicio'/><author><name>mr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10598767247687773103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSoZWjXjX7w/TXr2x931y8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/YfjSJ0kM68A/s220/mr15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqsgGW_UCIs/Rg6OaccGuPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/dlmeyyUEn8g/s72-c/Embriao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
